3  4  8 


\ 


• 


\  - 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN 


A  Soldier  and  a  Gentleman 


BY 


J.    MACLAREN    COBBAN 

AUTHOR  or 
"The  Horned  Cat,"  "  King  of  Andaman,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 
STREET  &   SMITH 

238  WILLIAM  STREET 


e 


\\ 


Copyright,  1891, 
By  UNITED  STATES  BOOK  CO. 


Copyright,  1901, 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

CHAPTER  I. 

/ 

AN  EVENING  OF  ADVENTURE. 

IT  was  an  unusually  hot  week  of  the  uncertain  month 
of  July.  The  heavens  were  as  brass,  and  the  elements 
seemed  melting  with  fervent  heat.  There  was  not  a 
breath  of  air^to  suggest  coolness.  The  leaves  of  the 
trees  in  the  parks  looked  scorched,  the  grass  was 
parched  and  brown,  and  the  ornamental  waters  ap- 
peared stagnant  and  unwholesome.  Throughout  all 
London  the  bricks  were  baking,  and  the  people  swel- 
tering in  the  direct  and  reflected  sunshine  ;  but  no- 
where was  the  heat  more  fetid  and  stifling  than  about 
Soho.  The  atmosphere  was  charged  not  only  with 
the  exhalations  of  a  poor  and  densely-packed  popu- 
lation, but  also  with  the  odours  of  neglected  refuse, 
vegetable  and  other,  in  the  courts  and  the  streets. 


2134888 


6  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

In  the  early  evening,  women  with  babies  and  women 
without,  neither  very  much  tied  nor  very  much  but- 
toned, sat  on  door-steps,  or  leaned  against  door-posts 
with  their  arms  lazily  crossed  ;  while  half-clad  chil- 
dren played  and  shouted  and  perspired  in  the  gutters 
or  ran  in  and  out  of  the  shady  courts ;  and  hulking 
or  evil-looking  men,  with  pipes  in  their  mouths  and 
their  hands  in  their  pockets,  hung  about  corners  and 
the  swinging  doors  of  public-houses.  In  Dean  Street 
the  only  active  persons  to  be  seen  were  two  or  three 
costermongers  with  barrows  of  fish  or  fruit,  who, 
with  their  arms  and  their  throats  bare,  urged  their 
laggard  donkeys  as  feelingly  and  yelled  as  lustily  as 
usual ;  and  a  melting  postman  in  unofficial  straw  hat 
who  urged  his  weary  rat-tat  round. 

There  was  another,  a  tall,  well-built  young  man, 
who  emerged  from  one  of  the  houses,  a  miracle  of 
coolness.  He  was  dressed  in  a  tweed  suit  and  a 
round  hat,  and  he  carried  a  pair  of  gloves  and  a  little 
cane  which  was  much  too  short  to  walk  with.  He 
was  turning  down  the  street  with  a  swinging  stride 
when  he  observed  the  postman.  He  returned  to  the 
door  from  which  he  had  come,  and  waited  till  the 
postman  approached.  "Anything,"  he  asked,  "for 
George  Ferrers  ? " 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  7 

The  postman  carelessly  glanced  at  the  address  of 
two  or  three  of  his  letters,  said  ' '  No, "  and  passed  on. 

George  Ferrers  jerked  out  a  nod  of  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  courtesy,  tucked  his  little  cane  under  his 
arm,  set  his  hat  a  little  more  jauntily  over  his  eye, 
strode  away,  his  step  ringing  clear  on  the  pavement 
He  was  evidently  not  in  the  calmest  of  tempers. 
Once  or  twice  he  muttered  "  Damn  !  "  to  himself  and 
beat  his  thigh  with  his  cane.  He  swung  right  on  his 
way,  elbowing  aside  without  compunction  the  hulk- 
ing loafers,  who  turned  with  a  furious  "Wot  the 

b !"  which  became  a  cheerful  "All  right,  guv'- 

nor,"  when  they  saw  the  tall,  muscular  figure.  The 
children  stopped  their  play  to  look  up  at  him,  and  the 
women  glanced  at  him  with  approval  and  seductive- 
ness. 

"  Fine  man,  ain't  he  ? " — "  Looks  like  a  officer" — 
"There's  a  gen'leman  for  yer  ! "  were  some  of  the 
least  questionable  of  the  comments  made  on  his  ap- 
pearance— comments  which  his  quick  ear  caught,  and 
which  somewhat  soothed  his  temper ;  for  to  the 
average  healthy  man  there  is  nothing  more  agree- 
able than  the  admiration  of  womankind.  He  twirled 
his  fair  curling  moustache  with  an  air,  fastened,  in 
spite  of  the  heat,  one  button  of  his  coat,  the  better  to 


8  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN, 

show  off  the  lines  of  his  figure,  squared  his  shoulders 
and  swelled  his  chest,  and  marched  with  something 
of  that  bow  of  the  leg  which  marks  the  matured  Life- 
guardsman.  Through  the  squalid  swarming  streets 
of  Soho  and  St  Giles  he  thus  made  his  way,  and 
arrived  in  St  Martin's  Lane,  crossing  which  he  found 
himself  at  the  corner  of  Long  Acre.  There  he  paused, 
and  debated  with  himself  a  moment,  slowly  twisting 
the  ends  of  his  moustache.  He  was  hungry.  Should 
he  content  himself  with  bread-and-cheese  and  a  glass 
of  ale  in  a  tavern  ?  Or,  should  he  deny  himself  the  ale, 
and  have  something  more  staying  and  nutritious  in 
the  a-la-mode  beef-shop  at  his  elbow  ?  Though  he  had 
what  he  called  "a  thirst"  upon  him,  he  decided  for 
the  diet  without  drink,  and  turning  on  his  heel,  he 
entered  the  shop  a-la-mode. 

It  is  scarcely  fair  to  expose  all  the  bare  shifts  to 
which  patient  merit  may  be  reduced,  and  how  it  has 
often  parsimoniously  to  consider  the  purchasing 
power  of  a  penny.  Let  it  suffice  to  say  that  George 
Ferrers  made  a  tolerable  meal,  to  which  a  piquant 
relish  was  imparted  by  the  kind  looks  of  the  plump, 
though  somewhat  untidy,  serving-girl  behind  the 
counter.  The  box  in  which  he  sat  to  consume  his 
viands  was  inadequate.  The  seat  was  narrow,  and 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  9 

his  knees  touched  the  bench  on  the  other  side  of  the 
little  table.  A  little  man  might  have  enjoyed  in  it 
complete  privacy  except  from  the  overseeing  eye  of 
the  counter-girl ;  but  George  Ferrers  could  conceal  no 
more  than  his  plate  and  a  few  buttons  of  his  waist- 
coat. He  sat  so  high  that  he  could  see  into  all  the 
other  boxes,  and  he  felt  that  his  dominant  height  had 
a  depressing  effect  on  the  dirty  carters — themselves 
bulky  men — and  the  nondescript  loafers  who  were 
feeding  in  them.  He  hurried,  therefore,  through  his 
meal,  paid  for  it — not  forgetting  to  tip  the  plump 
serving-girl,  who  responded  with  a  surprised,  "Thank 
you,  sir  " — and  returned  into  the  street. 

He  chinked  his  change  in  his  hand,  and  dropped 
it  into  his  pocket  with  as  much  of  a  pang  of  anxiety 
as  his  cheerful  spirit  would  permit  him  to  feel.  The 
few  pieces  of  silver  and  copper — making  one-and- 
ninepence  in  all — were  the  amount  of  his  pecuniary 
resources,  and  he  had  no  immediate  prospect  of 
more.  Yet  he  must  have  a  smoke.  He  had  had  his 
appetite  for  food  but  half  allayed ;  for  it  took  a  good 
deal  to  keep  his  continent  of  body  in  condition  ;  but 
he  knew  he  would  feel  satisfied  if  he  had  a  pipeful 
of  tobacco.  Turning  down  St.  Martin's  Lane,  there- 
fore, he  entered  a  tobacconist's  and  purchased  a  half- 


10  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

ounce  of  his  favourite  mixture.  Then  filling  and 
lighting  his  pipe,  he  strolled  serenely  and  gallantly 
down  to  Trafalgar  Square.  He  leaned  over  the  par- 
apet, knitted  his  brows,  smoked  hard,  and  asked 
himself  what  he  should  do. 

He  was  where  he  had  often  been  of  an  evening 
before.  He  leaned  on  the  parapet  and  looked  away 
down  over  the  silent  fountains  into  Whitehall,  to 
that  front  of  the  Horse  Guards  where,  in  other  days, 
he  had  often  appeared  in  all  the  glittering  panoply 
of  war,  on  his  black  horse,  in  steel  cuirass  and 
gorgeous  helmet.  England  had  been  to  him  a  pretty 
hard  step-mother.  She  had  taken  twelve  good  years 
of  his  life ;  had  marched  and  counter-marched  him  ; 
had  sent  him  to  the  Soudan — whence  he  had  returned 
but  a  year  ago,  a  gaunt  and  sun-burnt  member  of 
the  famous  Camel  Corps — and  had  then  turned  him 
adrift  and  shown  no  further  interest  in  him.  He  did 
not  complain  :  he  was  too  well  drilled  a  soldier  and 
of  too  cheerful  a  nature  to  do  that ;  but  as  he  let  his 
eye  rove  round,  still  asking  himself  in  the  backward 
of  his  thought  what  he  was  going  to  do,  he  resented 
the  fat  and  prosperous  appearance  of  the  crowd 
surging  and  perspiring  east  and  west,  and  north  and 
south,  in  loose  coats  and  white  waistcoats.  He 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  \\ 

wondered  how  they  would  look  if  they  were  collected 
into  a  regiment  and  marched  into  the  desert,  where 
there  was  only  a  modicum  of  the  tinned  "junk"  of 
Australia  or  Chicago  to  eat,  and  not  a  drop  of  water 
to  drink  ;  and  if,  when  choking  and  cracking  with 
thirst,  a  horde  of  fuzzy-headed,  gigantic  black  devils 
came  howling  down  upon  them,  thrusting  at  them 
with  shovel-headed  spears,  and  hacking  mightily  at 
them  with  huge  crusader  swords.  Of  what  use 
would  they  be  in  a  trial  of  pluck,  strength,  and  en- 
durance ?  And  yet  he  reckoned  there  WHS  not  one 
but  had  gold  and  silver  in  his  pocket,  while  he  had 
only  one-and-sevenpence,  and  did  not  know  where 
to  get  another  shilling.  Of  course  he  had  a  father,  a 
farmer  in  a  dale  of  Cumberland ;  but  he  was  not  going 
to  beg  money  of  the  old  man — no,  not  if  he  were 
starving.  Trafalgar  Square,  he  had  heard,  is  the 
centre  of  London,  and  London  is  the  centre  of  the 
world  ;  therefore,  he  stood  in  the  very  heart,  or  bull's 
eye,  of  the  life,  wealth,  and  business  of  the  world. 
He  was  well  placed,  then,  and  ought  to  get  on.  Yet 
why  had  he  received  no  answer  to  any  one  of  his 
own  advertisements,  or  of  his  replies  to  the  advertise- 
ments of  others  ?  He  could  not  guess,  unless  it  were 
that  for  a  big  fellow  with  curling  moustaches  and 


12  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

long  legs,  who  had  served  twelve  years  in  the  Life 
Guards,  there  was  no  place  in  civilian  life. 

So  he  asked  himself  again  what  he  was  going  to 
do.  He  was  resolved  he  would  not  go  to  his  lodging 
that  night — the  dingy,  frowsy  garret  in  Soho — with- 
out having  settled  something  one  way  or  another 
about  his  future.  He  had  heard  it  said,  "Adventures 
are  to  the  adventurous ;  "  and  since  an  adventure  had 
not  sought  him  out,  he  thought  he  had  better  seek 
put  an  adventure.  Which  way  should  he  go  ? — 
North,  south,  east,  or  west?  He  stopped — regard- 
less of  the  curious  side-looks  of  the  passers-by — set 
his  little  cane  erect  on  the  pavement  and  let  it  go. 
It  fell  at  once  to  the  west ;  and  to  the  west — into 
Clubland — he  at  once  set  off.  His  pipe  was  empty 
and  his  mouth  was  dry:  he  let  his  tongue  "click" 
against  his  palate,  to  assure  himself  how  much  he 
was  in  need  of  a  drink.  He  thought  he  might  in- 
dulge himself  to  the  extent  of  a  half-pint,  since  he 
must  presently — he  laughed — run  against  a  frail  old 
gentleman  who  needed  a  prop  for  his  declining  years, 
or  a  lonely  dowager  who  longed  to  adopt  a  son  :  and 
he  knew  himself  as  strong  as  a  tree  and  as  active 
and  willing  as  a  horse. 

The  sun  had  set  with  the  cloudless  glow  of  a 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  13 

furnace  behind  the  further  end  of  Pall  Mall,  and  the 
stifling,  breathless  shades  of  night  seemed  to  rise  from 
the  ground  as  much  as  they  sank  from  the  sky,  as 
he  left  Trafalgar  Square. 

"Here  goes!"  said  he;  and  he  Burned  up  the 
narrow  street  on  his  right  to  "  wet  his  whistle"  be- 
fore committing  himself  to  the  search  for  adventure 
in  the  west.  He  turned  into  the  bar  of  the  first  public- 
house  and  asked  for  a  half-pint  of  "old  and  bitter" 
— the  Guardsman's  favourite  drink. 

"Old  and  bitter,  sir?"  said  the  smart  barmaid, 
looking  not  unkindly  on  his  stalwart  figure  and  hand- 
some, good-natured  face  as  she  drew  the  liquor.  She 
seemed  not  disinclined  from  conversation  ;  but  she 
was  anticipated  by  a  well-dressed,  black-muzzled 
man,  with  his  tall  hat  tilted  back,  who  sat  on  a  stool, 
smoked  a  cigar,  and  drank  spirits-and-water.  ' '  Have 
a  cigar,  mister  ? "  asked  the  man,  displaying  an  open 
cigar-case. 

"  Thanks — no,"  said  Ferrers.  "  I  prefer  a  pipe ;  " 
and  he  produced  and  filled  it  He  had  that  instinct 
of  English  reserve  which  repels  the  familiar  advance 
of  a  stranger. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  the  man  ;  "but  you've  been  a 
soldier — haven't  you?  I've  been  a  soldier  myself." 


I4  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"In  the  Horse  Marines,  wasn't  it?  "  said  Ferrers 
with  a  laugh. 

"No,  sir;  in  the  American  army." 

"  I  thought,"  said  Ferrers,  "  you  didn't  look  like  a 
soldier.  May  I  ask  you  a  question  ?  " 

"You  may,  sir." 

"  Aren't  you  an  Irishman  ? " 

"  I  am  ;  and  proud  of  the  fact,  sir,  of  belonging  to 
that  down-trodden  nation.  Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"Oh,  just  because  I  thought  only  a  downtrodden 
Irishman  would  go  and  serve  under  a  foreign  flag 
and  then  brag  about  it  to  an  English  soldier." 

"I  served  in  America,  sir,  not  as  a  private,  but  as 
an  officer.  In  your  blessed  English  army,  would  I 
have  had  a  chance  of  being  an  officer  ? " 

"I  hope  not,"  said  Ferrers  with  a  laugh. 

"No,"  continued  the  Irishman,  pulling  his  hat  on 
and  getting  warmer.  "  I'd  have  had  a  lot  of  insolent 
bloated  aristocrats  over  me. " 

"Perhaps,"  said  Ferrers,  "you  know  more  aristo- 
crats than  I  do.  But  I've  known  some,  and  I'd  prefer 
them  to  the  only  officer  I  ever  met  of  the  American 
army.  My  captain  was  a  Viscount,  and  my  major 
was  a  Duke,  and  they  were  the  best  fellows  I  ever 
knew.  Of  course  they  lost  their  temper  sometimes, 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  15 

and  sometimes  swore  a  bit ;  but  every  man  that  is 
a  man  does  that.  But  I've  fought  shoulder  to  shoulder 
with  them  in  square  in  the  Soudan ;  we've  drunk  the 
same  dirty  water  from  the  same  confounded  water- 
bottle  ;  and  we've  sung  the  same  songs  riding  through 
the  desert.  And  if  I  were  on  my  last  legs,  I'd  ask 
them  to  help  me  before  I'd  ask  anybody  else  ;  and 
they'd  do  it  too. — What  do  you  think  of  that?  " 

"  What  do  I  think  of  that,  sir  ?  "  said  the  Irishman, 
rising  from  his  stool,  swallowing  the  last  drops  of 
his  liquor,  and  moving  to  the  door.  "I  think  that 
very  likely  you  blacked  their  boots."  Saying  that, 
he  was  gone,  and  Ferrers'  toe  was  too  late  to  help 
him  out 

"You  had  him  there,"  laughed  the  barmaid ;  "  and 
he's  bolted." 

"He  has,"  said  Ferrers.  "But  I  may  meet  him 
another  day." 

He  finished  his  drink  and  departed,  thinking  over 
what  he  had  said.  His  defence  of  his  officers  was 
quite  unpremeditated.  They  had  not  been  in  his 
thoughts,  and  it  had  not  occurred  to  him  to  appeal 
to  them  to  find  a  way  for  him  out  of  his  present  dead- 
lock. But  now  that  the  suggestion  had  arisen  quite  of 
itself,  as  one  might  say,  he  asked  himself, "  Why  not  ?  " 


1 6  4  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

So  he  marched  on  westward,  till  he  found  clubs  to 
right  of  him,  clubs  to  left  of  him,  each  one  volleying 
forth  from  open  windows  above  and  below  the  liquor- 
ish and  appetising  odours  of  good  cookery.  Lord 
Debrett,  he  knew,  was  to  be  heard  of  at  the  Junior 
Carlton ;  and  he  walked  slowly  past  its  ample  and 
imposing  doorway.  But  a  glance  at  the  hall  porter, 
who  was  taking  the  air  on  the  top  step,  and  who 
looked  as  important  as  a  Secretary  of  State,  and  far 
more  alarming  than  his  late  captain,  and  a  glimpse 
of  the  gorgeous  marble  interior,  so  daunted  him  that 
he  lost  heart. 

He  passed  on  and  up  St  James's  Street,  and  so  into 
Piccadilly,  and  on  again  westward.  He  was  offered 
sundry  adventures  of  a  doubtful  kind,  but  he  marched 
steadily  on.  The  roadway  was  thronged  with  omni- 
buses, and  red-eyed  hansoms  and  carriages  bearing 
people  from  home  and  dinner  to  theatre,  opera,  or 
party ;  and  the  pavements  were  peopled  with  well- 
dressed  persons  of  both  sexes  ;  but  nowhere  did  he 
perceive  a  hint  of  the  frail  old  gentleman  or  the  lonely 
dowager  who,  he  had  hoped,  were  longing  to  adopt 
him. 

When  he  was  near  his  old  barracks  of  Knights- 
bridge,  he  thought  he  was  about  as  far  west  as  civili- 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  \j 

sation  and  opportunity  could  extend,  and  as  Fate 
could  expect  him  to  go.      However,  he  consulted 
chance  again,  as  he  had  done  before.     He  set  his 
cane  upright  on  the  pavement  and  let  it  fall.     It  fell 
without  an  instant's  hesitation  to  the  east 

"Very  well,"  said  he  to  himself.  "Back  I  go." 
So  he  returned  the  way  he  had  come,  his  hope  of 
adventure  sinking  lower  and  lower  the  nearer  he  ap- 
proached to  Trafalgar  Square.  At  last  he  was  back 
in  his  former  place,  leaning  over  the  parapet.  It 
was  now  quite  dark,  as  dark,  that  is,  as  it  ever  is  on 
a  hot,  clear-skied  summer  night  The  space  below 
him  around  the  fountains  was  inhabited  by  dark  fig- 
ures, moving,  as  it  seemed,  aimlessly  about ;  while 
the  benches  were  almost  completely  filled — "  with 
the  unemployed, "  he  thought 

"I'm  one  of  the  unemployed,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"I'll  have  a  seat."  He  descended  the  steps,  made 
room  for  himself  on  a  bench,  and  lighted  his  pipe. 
He  sat  thus  for  a  little  while  musing.  He  saw  in 
imagination  his  old  home  in  the  Cumberland  hills 
under  the  summer  night — the  rich  fields  sloping  down 
from  the  dear,  ivy-clad  house,  and  the  sheltering  wood 
behind.  In  fancy  he  heard  the  bark  of  the  watchdog 
— bark  answering  unto  bark  all  down  and  round  the 


1 8  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

dale — and  the  low  of  the  kine  returned  to  pasture  from 
the  evening  milking ;  he  smelt,  too,  the  sweet  cool 
odour  of  the  new-mown  hay,  the  rich  evanescent 
scent  of  the  roses  in  the  farm-garden,  and  of  the  honey- 
suckle in  the  hedges  round ;  and  a  lump  rose  in  his 
throat,  and  he  wondered  whether,  after  all,  he  had 
not  better  return,  like  the  prodigal,  to  his  father  and 
take  what  place  could  be  found  for  him.  Suddenly 
he  became  aware  of  loud  and  angry  voices  not  far 
off ;  and  looking  up,  he  saw  near  one  of  the  fountain- 
basins  a  dark  knot  of  people  which  was  drawing  to 
itself  more  and  more  dark  units  from  all  sides.  He 
rose  and  went  over.  As  he  approached,  a  shrill  fe- 
male voice  rose  in  the  air — "  Police  !  "  and  continued 
in  a  key  but  little  below  the  shrillest :  "  I'll  see  if 
you'll  molest  a  woman  going  quietly  about  her  busi- 
ness— you  bad  man  !  you  black,  nefarious  creature — 
you  ! " 

Elbowing  his  way  into  the  centre  of  the  crowd,  he 
saw  that  the  "  bad  man  "  on  whom  the  woman's  rage 
was  concentred  was  the  black-muzzled  Irishman. 
He  was  declaring  to  the  amused  or  indifferent  by- 
standers that  the  woman  had  done  this  and  that,  and 
had  said  this  and  that  to  him. 

"Why  don't  you  let  the  woman  alone  ? "  demanded 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  19 

Ferrers.  "  Is  it  Irish  or  American  manners  to  make 
a  row  with  a  woman  in  a  public  place  ? " 

"Mind  your  own  business,"  said  the  furious  Irish- 
man, ' '  you English  lamp-post !  " 

Ferrers  said  not  a  word  ;  but  stepping  up  to  him, 
he  gripped  him  by  the  waist,  raised  him  and  shook 
him  as  a  mastiff  might  shake  a  yapping  cur,  and 
dropped  him  into  the  water  of  the  fountain-basin. 
The  crowd,  which  had  held  its  breath  a  moment, 
now  roared  with  laughter :  the  ducking  was  a  joke  i* 
could  appreciate. 


20  ^  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

CHAPTER  II. 

COMRADES. 

"  BY  Jove  !  "  Ferrers  heard  a  voice  exclaim  be- 
hind him,  "  I've  known  only  one  man  that  could  lift 
another  man  like  that !  " 

He  thought  he  knew  the  voice.  He  turned,  and 
saw  a  gentleman  in  evening  dress  about  as  tall  as 
himself  pushing  towards  him.  It  was  Lord  Debrett, 
who  came  and  looked  him  in  the  face  and  grasped 
his  hand. 

"  What  ?  By  Jove  I  it  is  you  really,  Ferrers. 
What  are  you  doing  here  ?  Come  along.  The 
police  are  sure  to  turn  up  now  when  it  is  all  over, 
and  they  may  want  to  collar  you." 

The  Irish-American  had  scrambled  out  of  his 
unexpected  bath,  and  dripping  with  wet  and  fury 
he  cried:  "I'll  remember  you  for  this  1  I'll  spot 
you  ! " 

"  You'd  better  scuttle  home,"  said  Lord  Debrett, 
"  and  change  your  clothes,  or  you'll  catch  cold. 
And  having  thus  said,  he  took  Ferrers'  arm  and  led 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  ai 

him  outside  the  crowd,  where  he  was  joined  by  an- 
other gentleman  in  evening  dress.  "I  was  right," 
said  Lord  Debrett. — "Let  me  introduce  to  you,  Sir 
William,  my  old  comrade,  Ferrers  of  the  Blues — Ser- 
geant Ferrers  that  was. ' 

Sir  William  bowed  somewhat  stiffly  ;  and  Ferrers, 
being  taken  thus  at  unawares,  returned  the  bow 
rather  awkwardly.  He  felt  he  did  not  like  Sir 
William,  for  no  other  reason,  perhaps,  than  that  he 
had  made  him  to  appear  awkward.  Sir  William  was 
middle-aged,  thin-whiskered,  lean,  and  of  the  middle 
height. 

"  Come  and  let  us  have  a  talk,"  said  Lord  Debrett. 

Ferrers  said  nothing  ;  the  presence  of  Sir  William 
kept  him  from  being  quite  easy  and  frank  with  his 
late  captain. 

"  Were  you  going  anywhere  in  particular  ?  "  asked 
Lord  Debrett 

' '  No,  my  lord, "  said  Ferrers  ;  "  I  was  just  hanging 
about." 

"Well,  Sir  William  and  I  were  just  walking  down 
to  the  Gaiety  for  an  hour ;  we  have  to  go  somewhere 
else  afterwards. — Suppose,  Dawlish,  you  go  on  to 
the  theatre  and  come  back  and  find  me  in  the  smok- 
ing-room of  the  Club  ? " 


tt  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"  That  will  suit  me  very  well,"  said  Sir  William. 

"And  me,  too,"  thought  Ferrers;  and  he  bowed 
adieu  to  Sir  William  Dawlish  with  the  greatest  good- 
will, supposing  he  saw  the  last  of  him.  But  he  had 
not  done  that  by  any  means  ;  and  thereby  hangs 
our  tale. 

The  comrades-in-arms  walked  off  together  along 
Pall  Mall. 

' '  Who  was  the  man  you  ducked,  Ferrers  ?  "  asked 
Lord  Debrett. 

"I  don't  know,  my  lord,"  answered  Ferrers.  "I 
met  him  first  an  hour  or  more  ago  in  a  public-house, 
where  he  was  calling  English  officers  names ;  and  I 
came  across  him  again  now  rowing  with  a  woman, 
so  I  settled  both  counts  by  sousing  him." 

Lord  Debrett  laughed.  "But  look  here,  Ferrers. 
Don't  call  me  '  my  lord  '  or  '  captain '  when  we 
meet  like  this,  any  more  than  I  call  you  '  sergeant ' 
We've  been  comrades  ;  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you, 
my  bones  would  be  bleaching  with  the  rest  at  Abu 
Klea  ;  so  just  call  me  Debrett,  as  I  call  you 
Ferrers." 

"Very  well,"  said  Ferrers,  feeling  not  unnaturally 
somewhat  lifted  up. 

"Now,  tell  me  what  you've  been  doing  since  I 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  33 

saw  you  a  year  ago.  I  thought  you  had  made  up 
your  mind  to  stay  in  the  country  with  your 
father. " 

"So  I  had" 

"  And  why  didn't  you  go  ?  "  asked  Debrett. 

' '  I  did  go.  And  I  stayed  with  him  all  through 
the  winter  and  spring.  But  I  got  tired  of  the  country ; 
I  wanted  to  be  back  in  London  ;  and  so  I  came  away 
about  six  weeks  ago  before  all  my  money  was 
spent" 

"And  how  have  you  been  getting  on  since?" 

"Well,  times  are  not  too  lively." 

"But  you've  got  something  to  do,  I  suppose?  " 

"No;  nothing." 

"Nothing!  That's  bad.  You've  tried,  I  sup- 
pose ?  " 

"Tried!     I  should  think  so  !" 

"But  you're  clever.  You  can  write  well  and  tot 
up  accounts." 

"There  are  lots  can  do  that  better  than  me.  I 
haven't  tried  for  that." 

"What  have  you  tried  for?  " 

"I've  tried  for  drawing " 

"  I  know  you  can  draw  and  paint  first-class." 

"Well,  I've  offered  myself  as  a  War  Artist,  anff 


24  A  SOLDIER  AND  A   GENTLEMAN. 

shown  some  of  my  things.  They  liked  them  ;  but 
there  ain't  a  war  on,  nor  expected — worse  luck  !— So 
they  just  took  my  name  in  case  anything  should 
turn  up ;  though  they  seemed  to  think  I  was  too 
big,  too  noticeable,  and  would  take  too  much  to 
keep." 

"Little  nippers  of  men,  I  suppose,"  said  Debrett, 
"  would  do  better  for  that." 

"I've  offered  myself,"  continued  Ferrers,  warming 
to  his  narrative,  "to  teach  the  use  of  the  sabre  in  a 
fencing-gallery ;  but  it  appears  nobody  wants  to  learn 
cavalry  practice,  and  rapier  practice  I  don't  know." 

' '  Humph  !  "  grunted  Debrett  meditatively. 

"  I've  offeifed  myself  as  a  riding-master ;  but  they 
wondered  if  they  had  any  horse  strong  enough  to 
carry  me.  And  I've  answered  advertisements  for 
lots  of  other  things,  but  without  getting  any  reply. 
The  fact  is  I  seem  to  be  too  big  for  anything,  except 
a  door  ornament  with  buttons  for  a  swell  shop  or 
restaurant." 

"The  doose  you  are!"  exclaimed  Lord  Debrett, 
meditatively  twisting  his  moustache.  "I  daresay 
now  if  I  broke  loose  and  spent  till  I  could  get  no 
more  to  spend,  and  if  I  had  to  take  up  some  occupa- 
tion, they'd  think  me  too  big,  by  Jove  I " 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  25 

"Oh,"  said  Ferrers,  "you're  a  lord.  For  that, 
the  bigger  the  better. " 

"Is  that  it?  So  being  called  a  lord  has  its  ad- 
vantages. " 

"I  should  think  so— rather,"  said  Ferrers  with  a 
laugh. 

"But  go  on,"  said  Debrett.  "Tell  me  about 
yourself.  You  mean  to  go  on  trying  to  get  some- 
thing, I  suppose  ? " 

"I  mean  to  go  on  trying;  though,  to  tell  the 
truth,  I  don't  know  what  to  try  for  next" 

"Do  you  think  I  can  do  anything  for  you?  If 
you  find  yourself  short,  you  know,  Ferrers " 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right,"  said  Ferrers  quickly. 

Debrett  was  suspicious.  "Come  now,  Ferrers," 
said  he ;  "on  your  oath — how  much  money  have 
you  got  ? " 

"Well,  Debrett,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I've  only 
got  one-and-fivepence  left. " 

" Good  heavens  !  One-and-fivepence  I  And,"  he 
declared  with  a  touch  of  contrition  in  his  voice,  "I'm 
smoking,  I  believe,  a  one-and-sixpenny  Partaga ! — 
But  you  haven't  been  on  starvation  rations,  surely  ! 
Now  I  look  close  at  you,  you're  rather  thin  and  pale. " 

"  Well,  for  a  fortnight  or  so  I've  just  managed  to 


26  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

throw  dust  in  the  eyes  of  my  appetite,  so  to  speak. 
But  it  takes  an  enormous  deal  to  choke  off  this 
appetite  of  mine." 

"Come  along;  come  and  have  something,"  said 
Lord  Debrett,  hurrying  him  into  the  Junior  Carl  ton, 
through  the  great  swinging  doors,  up  the  broad  steps, 
and  into  the  depths  beyond. 

Ferrers  cast  a  glance  in  passing  at  the  watchful 
Secretary  of  State  in  the  porter's  box,  and  wondered 
that  an  hour  before  he  should  have  been  so  afraid  of 
him.  He  was  led  into  a  private  dining-room  and  set 
down  at  a  table.  He  was  asked  what  he  would  like, 
and  with  little  hesitation  he  declared  for  cold  beef, 
bread  and  bitter  ale.  He  asked  Debrett  if  he  was  not, 
going  to  eat  also.  Debrett  said  he  could  not,  having 
little  more  than  finished  dinner. 

"But,"  said  he,  "I'll  keep  you  company  with  a 
drink." 

Then  he  refused  to  say  another  word  till  his  friend 
had  eaten  his  meal.  He  sat  in  an  easy-chair,  pulled 
his  moustache,  and  ruminated.  Presently,  when  Fer- 
rers' efforts  had  slackened  a  little,  he  turned  to  him  as 
if  he  had  come  to  a  weighty  conclusion.  "Do  you 
know,  Ferrers,"  said  he,  "I  think  you've  not  come 
enough  the  old  soldier,  as  you  used  to  siy ;  you've 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  27 

been  too-straightforward  and  frank  with  those  civil- 
ians. " 

"What  do  you  mean,  Debrett?"  asked  Ferrers. 

"  Well,  you  haven't  bounced.  You've  just  led  them 
to  think  you  were  a  poor  devil  of  a  simple  soldier, 
strong,  deserving  and  willing.  That  was  a  mistake." 

' '  How  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  Don't  you  see  ?  There  was  a  want  of  generalship 
about  it.  You  remember  how  Drury  Lowe  took 
Cairo  ?  With  a  bit  of  bounce  !  " 

"Yes,  by  Jingo  !"  said  Ferrers  with  enthusiasm. 
"Pluck  first  and  bounce  afterwards." 

' '  Well,  there  you  are, "  said  Debrett.  ' '  You've  got 
pluck,  but  no  bounce.  Now  look  here.  Though 
you're  not  a  gentleman,  Ferrers — you  know  what  I 
mean,  that  you  haven't  birth,  or  estates,  or  that  sort 
of  thing — you'd  very  well  pass  for  a  gentleman 
with  most  people  :  you  look  like  a  gentleman,  and 
you  have  the  manners  of  a  gentleman. " 

' '  I've  lived  with  your  lordship  so  long, "  said  Ferrers. 

"  Don't  say  that  again,  Ferrers.  It's  only  when  you 
open  your  mouth  and  say  something  of  that  sort  that 
you  show,  to  anybody  that  knows,  that  you're  not 
the  proper  thing.  Don't  say  much  to  these  civilians, 
and  whatever  you  do  don't  be  humble.  Go  about 


28  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN, 

well  dressed — you  know  how — call  yourself  captain 
or  colonel ;  keep  a  stiff  back,  and,  if  you  think  it  will 
work,  be  quietly  insolent :  those  civilian  beggars,  I 
believe,  will  like  you  all  the  better  for  it. " 

"I  believe  you're  right,"  said  Ferrers,  with  his 
brows  puckered  in  attention. 

"Of  course  I'm  right.  I've  seen  it  many  a  time. 
Now  you  take  my  tip  and  you'll  get  on." 

Lord  Debrett  uttered  himself  solemnly,  as  if  what 
he  said  was  the  result  of  the  garnered  observation  of 
a  lifetime  ;  and  very  likely  it  was. 

' '  I  believe  you're  right, "  repeated  Ferrers.  ' '  Why, 
I've  seen  jokers  myself,  since  I've  been  about  now, 
come  that  game.  They've  stepped  in  and  looked 
round  as  if  all  the  place  belonged  to  'em,  and  they've 
ordered  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  slice  as  if  they  could 
buy  up  all  the  stores  if  they  liked,  and  they've  got 
served  better  and  quicker  than  anybody  else." 

"That's  rough  sort  of  practice,  though,"  said  De- 
brett, sagely  shaking  his  head.  "That's  overdoing 
it.  Don't  overdo  it,  Ferrers. " 

"I  quite  understand,"  said  Ferrers;  "oh,  yes. 
There's  a  way  of  doing  it,  of  course. " 

"Well,  you  take  the  right  way  and  you'll  get 
on." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  29 

The  simple  comrades  then  adjourned  to  the  smok- 
ing-room, where  presently  Sir  William  Dawlish  en- 
tered and  found  them.  Ferrers  was  not  embarrassed, 
as  he  had  been  before,  by  Sir  William's  presence  ;  for 
one  thing,  the  baronet  appeared  less  reserved  and 
more  friendly  ;  and,  for  another,  Ferrers  was  lustily 
primed  with  food  and  drink,  and  emboldened  with 
the  advice  given  him  by  Lord  Debrett 

"Dawlish,"  said  Debrett,  leaning  well  back  in  his 
lounge-chair  and  stretching  his  long  legs — all  three  be- 
ing provided  with  the  accompaniments  of  a  smoking- 
room  lounge — "  my  friend  Ferrers  wants  something 
to  do  :  he's  doosid  hard-up.  Can  you  recommend 
him  anything  ? " 

"Well,"  said  Sir  William,  with  a  smile  that  seemed 
to  Ferrers  more  like  a  grin  :  it  showed  all  his  teeth 
— "well,"  said  he,  "if  Mr.  Ferrers  will  excuse  my 
saying  it — he  had  the  look  when  I  first  saw  him  of  a 
hard-up  man.  I've  had  a  large  experience,  continued 
he  with  another  grin,  "of  hard-up  people  :  I'm  com- 
monly one  of  them  myself." 

"But  can  you  recommend  him  to  anything?" 
asked  Lord  Debrett  ' '  He's  a  good  fellow  ;  he  can 
always  hold  his  tongue  and  keep  his  head." 

"An  excellent  character  to  have,"  said  Sir  William, 


30  ^  SOLDIER  AND  A   GENTLEMAN, 

nodding  and  grinning  ;  "  and  I  have  no  doubt  he  de- 
serves it." 

"He  is  too  confoundedly  civil,"  thought  Ferrers. 
' '  What  does  he  mean  by  it  ?  " 

"Of  course  he  does,"  said  Lord  Debrett  "I 
wasn't  paying  a  compliment ;  I  was  merely  recom- 
mending a  good  man." 

"But  what,"  asked  Sir  William,  "is  Mr.  Ferrers' 
line  ?  " 

"I  am  a  yeoman's  son,"  said  Ferrers,  speaking  for 
himself,  with  a  frank  touch  of  pride,  "and  I  know 
something  of  farming ;  and  I've  served  my  twelve 
years  in  the  Blues,  from  private  to  sergeant " 

"And  he  knows  all  that  can  be  learned  in  the 
Guards,"  broke  in  Debrett,  "  and  a  good  deal  more 
besides. " 

"  And  how's  the  education,  may  I  ask  ?  "  said  Sir 
William. 

' '  Oh,  that's  all  right, "  said  Debrett  again  before 
Ferrers  could  reply  ;  "  besides  drawing,  calisthenics, 
and  the  use  of  the  globes,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
— But  have  you  something  in  your  eye,  Dawlish,  that 
might  occupy  any  of  Ferrers'  talents  ? " 

"I  have  a  notion  of  something  that  would  need  a 
good  many  talents — one  in  particular." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  31 

"Ah,  now,"  said  Debrett,  "there's  something  at 
last ; "  while  Ferrers  feared  it  might  be  something  he 
had  already  tried. 

Sir  William  looked  at  him  with  a  smile,  and  said  : 
"  Mr.  Ferrers,  I  suppose,  is  an  old  enough  soldier  to 
carry  out  instructions  without  demanding  an  expla- 
nation ?  " 

"I  should  think  so,"  answered  DebretL  —  "Eh, 
Ferrers  ? " 

"Certainly  I  am,"  said  Ferrers. 

"  But  what's  on,  Dawlish  ?  "  asked  Debrett  "Not 
a  burglary  or  an  abduction,  eh  ? " 

"You're  not  so  good  a  soldier  as  Mr.  Ferrers,"  said 
Sir  William,  grinning  again  :  "  you  want  an  expla- 
nation. " 

"But  I'm  not  going  to  take  service,"  answered  the 
other. 

"Well,"  said  Sir  William,  when  he  had  considered 
a  moment,  "it's  neither  a  burglary  nor  an  abduc- 
tion ;  it's  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  game  I  want 
to  play  with  some  wealthy  and  hard-fisted  connec- 
tions of  mine  in  the  City. — I  had  a  brother,"  he  con- 
tinued, leaning  forward,  to  Lord  Debrett,  while  his 
eye  constantly  turned  to  Ferrers,  "who  made  a  pile 
of  money  as  a  banker.  All  his  property  was  left  in 


32  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

charge  of  his  two  partners — stupid,  precise,  old  City 
men — and  it's  with  them  I  have  a  little  game  on  ; 
and  I  have  been  thinking  that  Mr.  Ferrers  might  help 
me  in  it.  I  don't  mind  telling  you  in  confidence 
that  there  is  a  lady  concerned  :  a  soldier  is  always 
ready  to  help  a  lady. " 

"What  do  you  say,  Ferrers? "  asked  Debrett. 

"Oh,"  said  Ferrers,  "  I'm  quite  ready  to  have  any 
game  that's  not  against  the  law,  with  jokers  of  that 
sort" 

"  I'll  take  care  of  the  law,"  said  Sir  William  with  a 
grin.  "Now,"  said  he,  considering  his  finger-nails 
a  moment,  "  for  your  help  in  this  business  I  can 
afford  to  give  you  a  hundred  pounds  and  your 
expenses.  You're  not  above  taking  money  for  a 
service  rendered,  I  suppose,  Mr.  Ferrers  ?  " 

"Unfortunately,  I  cannot  afford  to  be,"  said 
Ferrers. 

"That's  all  right.  Will  my  suggestion,  then,  suit 
you  ?  " 

"Perfectly,"  said  Ferrers.  "But  I  hope,  Sir  Wil- 
liam, you  won't  think  it  too  early  if  I  ask  you  now 
what  you  want  me  to  do." 

"  It's  quite  necessary,"  said  Sir  William  politely, 
"and  by  no  means  premature.  I  want  you  to  call 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN^.  33 

yourself  'William  Dawlish,'  and,  to  use  what  I  be- 
lieve is  a  vulgar  phrase,  to  behave  as  such.  That's 
all." 

"William  Dawlish?"  said  Ferrers.  "I  am  sup- 
posed to  be  your  son.  Is  that  it  ?  " 

"We  are  not  responsible  for  what  people  may 
suppose.  But  I  perceive,  Mr.  Ferrers,  in  your  ques- 
tion a  tendency  to  overdo  it." 

"What  I  said,"  remarked  Debrett  parenthetically. 
"Don't  overdo  it,  Ferrers." 

"No;  don't,"  said  Sir  William.  "It  will  be  as 
well  not  to  say  you  are  my  son,  because  you  are 
not" 

"So  far  as  you  know,  Dawlish,"  suggested  Lord 
Debrett 

"So  far,"  assented  Sir  William,  "as  I  know." 

"I  begin  to  understand,"  said  Ferrers.  "I  must 
play  the  game  of  'William  Dawlish'  with  plain 
cards." 

"With  plain  cards  as  much  as  possible,"  assented 
Sir  William.  "If  anyone,  for  instance,  should  ask 
you  point-blank,  'Are  you  Sir  William  Dawlish's 
son  ? '  you'll  play  low  and  say,  '  What  has  that  to 
do  with  you  ? '  or  something  of  that  sort.  There  are 
always  people  asking  for  information  :  your  business 

3 


34  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

is  not  to  give  it  'em.  And  always  remember  that 
whatever  you  do  or  say  I've  got  to  back  you  up  in  it — 
if  it  come  to  that ;  so  I  must  rely  on  you  not  to  com- 
promise me." 

"  Let  me  ask  you,  Sir  William,"  said  Ferrers,  "  this 
one  thing  more  :  there  is  nothing  illegal,  nothing 
wrong,  no  real  damage  to  anyone,  I  mean,  in  this 
game  ? " 

"Nothing  whatever,"  said  Sir  William.  "You 
will  have  to  act  a  fib  for  my  sake,  and  especially  for 
the  sake  of  a  certain  lady.  I  have  no  precise  in- 
structions at  present;  only  prepare  to  be  William 
Dawlish." 

"I  think,  Sir  William,  I  begin  to  see  the  thing," 
said  Ferrers.  He  was  still  perplexed  ;  but  he  was 
afraid  to  appear  stupid  by  asking  questions. 

"Now," said  Sir  William,  producing  a  cheque-book 
and  a  Livermore  pen,  "I'll  give  you  a  cheque  for 
fifty  pounds  on  account  of  expenses. — You  must  dress 
properly,  you  know"  (with  a  glance  at  Ferrers' rough 
tweed  suit,  which  made  him  blush),  "  and  you  must 
get  a  proper  address  and  visiting-cards  with  'Mr. 
William  Dawlish'  on  them." 

"  By  Jove,"  exclaimed  Lord  Debrett,  "this  is  going 
to  be  sport  1  " 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  35 

"But  remember,"  said  Sir  William  with  warning 
pen,  "it  is  strictly  between  us  three." 

"  Oh,  mum's  the  word,"  said  Lord  Debrett 

"There  will  be  no  difficulty,  I  suppose,"  said  Sir 
William  to  Ferrers,  "about  leaving  your  present 
lodgings  ?  " 

"None  at  all,"  said  Ferrers. 

"  Well,"  said  Sir  William,  "  drive  up  to  my  rooms, 
No.  —  Jermyn  Street,  in  a  hansom  at  twelve  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning." 

"Oh,  I  shall  come  to  breakfast,  Dawlish ! "  ex- 
claimed Lord  Debrett. 

"Do,"  said  Sir  William.  — "And,"  continued  he 
to  Ferrers,  "have  a  good,  big,  stout  portmanteau 
with  you — not  too  new  and  not  too  light. — Now, 
Debrett,"  said  he  with  another  of  his  grins,  glancing 
at  the  mantel-clock,  "  I  think  it's  quite  time  we  went." 

They  rose. — "Ah,  by  the  way,"  said  he,  "that 
cheque  is  drawn  on  my  late  brother's  bank.  It  is 
possible  they  may  detain  you  to  make  inquiries ;  " 
and  he  grinned  again.  "  But  don't  be  disturbed  :  I'll 
make  it  all  right." 

"In  that  case,"  said  Ferrers,  "had  I  not  better 
have  a — a  little  loose  cash,  to  make  sure  of  keeping 
my  morning  appointment  with  you,  Sir  William  ?  " 


36  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"That's  well  bethought,"  said  Sir  William;  and 
he  took  from  his  pocket-book  a  five-pound  note  and 
handed  it  to  Ferrers. 

Then  they  went  out. 

"  What's  the  game,  I  wonder  ? "  said  Lord  Debrett 
in  Ferrers'  ear  as  he  bade  him  "good-night" 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  yj 


CHAPTER  III. 

DREW,  DAWLISH,  AND  DRUMLY. 

FERRERS  walked  away  in  a  whirl  of  pleasant  feel- 
ing. He  put  his  hand  iuto  his  pocket :  it  was  long 
since — and  it  had  not  been  often — he  had  felt  the  crisp 
touch  of  a  bank-note.  As  he  strode  along,  scarce 
knowing  where  he  went,  he  thought  he  would  like 
to  smoke.  He  was  tired  of  the  old  clay  he  carried 
in  his  pocket.  He  had  money  :  he  would  buy  a  new 
pipe.  He  threw  his  clay  away  and  adventured  into  a 
tobacconist's.  It  was  only  when  he  was  in  that  he 
remembered  it  would  be  next  to  impossible  for  him 
to  change  a  five-pound  note  that  night  in  the  region 
he  frequented.  He  bought  a  pipe,  however,  nomi- 
nally abriar,  which  was  within  the  range  of  his  remain- 
ing cash,  and  continued  on  his  way.  He  wandered 
on  ;  in  his  exaltation,  not  quite  perceiving  where  he 
was.  It  was  still  tolerably  early,  and  many  shops 
were  still  open.  In  passing  a  cheesemonger  and 
butterman's  he  remembered  that  he  had  no  butter  for 


38  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

breakfast.  He  had  his  foot  within  the  shop  before 
he  discovered  that  he  had  only  twopence  in  his 
pocket  He  thought,  "  I  can  get  two  ounces  " — a 
quantity  he  had  often  heard  asked  for  in  his  Soho 
region. 

"Two  ounces  of  your  best  fresh,"  said  he,  walk- 
ing up  to  the  counter. 

"We  don't  make  two  ounces,"  said  the  young 
man,  looking  at  him  suspiciously. 

"Don't  you?"  said  Ferrers,  and  with  a  blush  he 
was  ready  to  turn  away  when  he  remembered  Lord 
Debrett's  advice  :  "You  must  come  the  old  soldier  ; 
you  must  bounce." 

"Then," said  he  recovering  himself,  "weigh me  a 
quarter  of  a  pound." 

The  shopman  weighed  that  quantity,  placed  it  on 
paper,  and  was  about  to  wrap  it  up,  when  Ferrers 
proffered  a  request.  "Will  you  be  so  good  as  to 
lend  me  a  knife  ? "  quoth  he. 

"Certainly,"  said  the  shopman,  handing  him  a 
formidable  carver. 

"Allow  me,"  said  Ferrers,  and  drew  the  butter 
towards  him.  In  a  second  he  had  cut  the  quarter  in 
two  with  the  knife,  put  the  one  part  back  on  the  scale 
and  wrapped  the  other  in  the  paper. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN,  39 

"Just  to  show  you  how  to  make  two  ounces,"  he 
added,  putting  down  his  money  and  striding  leisure- 
ly out  under  the  astonished  stare  of  the  shopman. 

The  complete  success  of  his  fevice  surprised  and 
amused  him. 

"That,"  he  thought,  "is  evidently  the  way  to  do 
it  Don't  make  a  fuss,  but  don't  be  put  down. 
I  see." 

So  he  marched  away  to  Soho  in  a  meditative  mood. 
He  had  not  yet  had  time  to  take  in  completely  that 
which  had  happened  to  him.  He  was  to  call  himself 
"William  Dawlish  "  and  to  appear  as  a  gentleman. 
What  could  that  mean  ?  That  he  was  going  to  be 
adopted  by  Sir  William  ?  Scarcely.  The  grinning 
baronet  was  not  the  man  to  have  generous  impulses 
of  that  sort  He  was — unconsciously,  he  supposed — 
to  perform  some  service— of  an  important  kind,  or 
else  the  baronet  would  not  have  offered  him  so  much 
money  and  would  not  have  been  so  secret.  There 
was  a  lady  concerned,  He  wondered  what  that 
might  mean.  Was  she  young  or  old  or  middle- 
aged?  Was  she  maid,  wife,  or  widow?  He  per- 
ceived, however,  that  if  he  indulged  in  such  specula- 
tions on  every  hand  he  would  probably  spoil  his 
business.  He  resolved  that  he  would  Beep  his  mind 


U>  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

— for  the  present  at  least — off  these  things,  and  set 
himself  to  execute  to  the  best  of  his  ability  the  pur- 
pose for  which  he  had  been  engaged. 

"Call  yourself  William  Dawlish,  and  behave  as 
'sech.'  That's  all."  Yes ;  that  was  all.  He  had 
pot  but  a  line  or  two  by  way  of  a  sketch,  and  he 
had  to  fill  in  a  complete  picture.  Well,  the  best  and 
the  most  he  could  arrange  now  was  to  keep  his  head 
cool  and  his  wits  awake  and  to  tackle  difficulties  as 
they  arose.  So  he  went  to  bed  and  to  sleep. 

When  he  woke  in  the  morning  he  reflected : 
"Yes;  I'm  William  Dawlish,  and  I  must  behave  as 
'sech.'" 

William  Dawlish,  it  was  clear,  must  be  quickly  cut 
off  from  the  associations  of  George  Ferrers.  So, 
when  he  had  eaten  his  breakfast,  he  called  his  land- 
lady and  told  her  that  he  must  go  away  at  once.  She 
was  sorry  :  he  had  been  such  a  "  nice  quiet  gentle- 
man." He  owed  the  old  woman  nothing — his  room 
being  paid  for — but  he  felt  something  was  due  to  her 
for  her  expressions  of  politeness.  He  asked  her  to  get 
him  his  five-pound  note  changed,  the  more  readily 
that  in  his  experience  such  a  document  could  not  be 
cashed  either  at  shop  or  public-house  without  the 
portentous  formality  of  putting  your  name  and  ad- 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  41 

dress  on  the  back.  She  brought  him  the  change,  and 
he  begged  her  to  accept  a  shilling. 

"Oh,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  she,  with  a  little  duck 
of  her  person,  which  was  rather  like  the  memory  of 
a  curtsey  than  a  curtsey  itself. 

With  such  deference  paid  him,  Ferrers  felt  as  if  he 
were  already  William  Dawlish,  though  still  in  the 
dingy  garret  in  Soho.  He  said,  "  Not  at  all,"  and 
began  packing  away  his  belongings  in  his  carpet- 
bag. That  occupation  accomplished,  he  said  "Good- 
bye" to  his  landlady  and  descended  the  stairs.  As 
he  was  departing  from  the  doorstep,  he  gave  a  quick 
glance  back  at  the  house,  asking  himself  of  a  sudden 
whether  that  was  the  end  of  his  poverty,  or  whether 
he  might  have  to  return  to  the  frowsy  garret  he  had 
left,  or  at  least  to  another  like  it.  Of  course,  he  would 
prefer  not  to  return  ;  but  if  it  were  decreed  that  he 
should — well,  he  was  not  going  to  worry.  Fortune's 
buffets  and  caresses  he  could  bear  with  the  same 
equal  mind. 

He  had  resolved  what  he  would  do  first  He  must 
array  himself  like  a  gentleman,  and  he  had  in  his 
mind's  eye  how  his  friend  Lord  Debrett  dressed.  Sir 
William  expected  him  to  appear  at  twelve  o'clock 
with  a  goodly  portmanteau,  in  which  he  meant,  no 


42  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

doubt,  that  there  should  be  a  goodly  store  of  proper 
clothing.  He  could  not  get  an  outfit  and  a  portman- 
teau with  five  pounds  ;  but  he  knew  of  a  well-filled 
shop  in  a  quiet  street  where  misfits  from  fashionable 
tailors  were  sold  at  a  reasonable  price,  and  where, 
he  believed,  he  might  buy  at  once  a  proper  suit  to 
stand  up  in  and  also  a  sufficient  portmanteau.  Now, 
what  kind  of  suit  should  be  his  first  ?  Sir  William 
had  abstained  from  explanations  and  directions  ;  but 
was  it  not  plain  he  desired  him  to  appear  as  if  fresh 
from  a  journey  ?  On  entering,  therefore,  the  shop  of 
misfits,  he  demanded  a  travelling  suit  of  serge  or 
tweed.  He  tried  several,  for,  being  a  tall  fellow,  he 
was  not  easy  to  fit.  At  length  he  decided  on  a  fine 
serge,  which  he  asked  to  be  allowed  to  put  on.  Be- 
fore, however,  withdrawing  to  the  back-room  pointed 
out  to  him  as  the  place  where  he  might  effect  a  change, 
he  turned  to  the  shopman.  "  I  want  a  portmanteau," 
said  he  :  "large  and  good,  but  not  too  new.  You 
have  such  things,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"Oh,  yessir,"  said  the  man. — "Now,  here's  a  fine 
solid-leather  article  ;  we  bought  it  of  a  gentleman 
going  to  India.  That  ought  to  suit  you  to  a  ' T. '" 

"Yes,"  said  Ferrers.  "But  here's  another  that 
will  do  for  me,  I  think. "  He  had  determined  on  it 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  43 

because  it  bore  two  large  initials,  "W.  B." — the 
latter  of  which  he  saw  at  once  could  be  readily 
changed  into  a  "D." 

"  Yessir,"  said  the  man,  "that's  a  very  serviceable 
article  ;  but  it's  not  so  good  as  this. " 

"It  will  suit  me  very  well,"  replied  Ferrers,  "if 
you  will  get  that  '  B '  changed  into  '  D. '  Rub  that 
middle  bit  out  and  round  off  the  back.  Can  you  do 
that  at  once  ? " 

"Oh,  yessir." 

Ferrers  withdrew  to  the  little  back-room  to  change 
his  clothes.  That  done,  he  put  his  head  out  and 
demanded  a  new  hat — a  brown  one,  round  and  of 
hard  felt 

"Is  that  portmanteau  ready?"  he  asked. 

It  was — almost.  When  it  was,  he  requested  it  to 
be  set  down  in  the  little  room. 

"  I  want  to  put  in  these  things  I've  taken  off,"  said 
he. 

He  not  only  folded  in  the  things  he  had  taken  off, 
but  also  crammed  in  his  carpet-bag  and  all  its  con- 
tents, thinking  that  simplified  matters  a  little.  Then  it 
occurred  to  him  that,  since  he  was  supposed  to  have 
made  a  journey,  he  ought  to  be  provided  with  some 
sort  of  overcoat  He  had  not,  however,  sufficient 


44  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

money  left  for  that ;  so  he  had  reluctantly  to  forego 
so  complete  a  presentation  of  his  part  as  he  thought 
he  ought  to  make. 

"I  ought  really,"  he  also  thought  to  himself,  "to 
take  a  cab  from  some  station,  and  there  should  be 
labels  on  my  portmanteau  ;  but  I  suppose  these 
things  can't  matter." 

A  hansom  was  called  for  him,  his  portmanteau  was 
hoisted  up,  and  he  got  in  saying  to  the  driver :  "Drew, 
Dawlish  and  Drumly's  Bank  in  Lombard  Street." 

When  the  bank  was  reached,  he  told  cabby  to 
wait,  and  descended  to  undergo  his  first  ordeal.  He 
remembered  that  Sir  William  had  said  with  a  grin 
that  he  might  be  "detained"  at  the  bank  ;  and  with, 
it  must  be  confessed,  a  curious  heave  of  feeling  that 
passed  from  his  ample  chest  down  to  somewhere 
about  the  second  button  of  his  waistcoat,  he  wondered 
what  was  going  to  happen.  He  was  not  afraid; 
but  he  thought,  "What  if  the  whole  thing  should 
end  here?  What  if  somebody  should  say,  "You're 
an  impostor  ! "  and  send  for  the  police  ?  And  with 
a  glance  back  at  the  cab,  he  wished  he  had  taken  it 
from  some  station ;  for  would  it  not  betray  him  if 
cabby  were  questioned  and  answered  truly  where  he 
had  driven  from  ? 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN:  45 

He  entered  the  bank  as  carelessly  as  he  could,  and 
walked  up  to  a  part  of  the  counter  whence  he  saw 
the  word  "Cashier"  staring  roundly.  He  took  out 
his  purse  to  produce  the  cheque,  and  was  at  once 
smitten  with  chagrin  to  think  that  his  little  purse 
looked  shabby,  and  that  the  cheque  should  have  been 
taken  from  a  well-filled  pocket-book  with  gilt  initials 
or  monogram  on  the  back.  He  was  relieved  to  note 
that  nobody  seemed  to  remark  from  what  he  took 
the  cheque,  that  no  one  took  any  notice  of  him  till  he 
leaned  on  the  counter  and  drummed  with  his  fingers. 
Then  a  bald-headed  man — a  disconcerting  man,  who 
looked  at  him  as  if  he  had  known  his  father  and 
grandfather  and  remembered  all  the  peccadillos  of 
his  youth — looked  round  from  a  desk  where  he  sat 
over  an  enormous  book,  and  held  out  his  hand  with- 
out a  word.  Ferrers  gave  him  the  cheque.  He 
looked  at  it  on  the  front,  glanced  at  its  blank  back, 
and  then  got  down  from  his  stool  and  looked  straight 
at  Ferrers.  "  Mr.  Dawlish  ?  "  said  he  in  a  sepulchral 
voice  of  inquiry. 

Ferrers  inclined  his  head  a  little,  scarce  knowing 
what  to  do. 

"Will  you  wait  a  moment,  please,  Mr.  Dawlish?" 
said  the  man,  and  disappeared. 


46  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

What  next  ?  thought  Ferrers,  with  another  flutter 
beneath  his  waistcoat.  He  looked  about  him,  curled 
his  fine  moustaches,  and  tried  to  look  unconscious  of 
evil.  Presently  he  became  aware  that  some  one  was 
looking  at  him  very  hard  through  a  glass  partition  a 
little  way  off.  What  now?  He  was  surprised  by 
the  appearance,  through  a  door  in  the  glass  partition, 
of  a  good-humoured,  dapper,  little  old  gentleman, 
who  came  straight  up  to  him  with  a  winning  smile 
and  the  inquiry  he  had  already  heard  from  the  bald- 
headed  man — "  Mr.  Dawlish  ?  " 

Again  Ferrers  bowed  in  reply — this  time  a  little 
more  resolutely. 

"Dear  me  !  "  said  the  little  gentleman,  looking  his 
stalwart  person  up  and  down.  ' '  And  how  are  you  ?  " 
he  asked  heartily,  extending  his  hand,  which  Ferrers 
took  and  gripped.  "  Dear  me  !  "  he  exclaimed  again, 
glancing  at  his  soft  white  hand,  when  released  from 
Ferrer's  vice.  "Will  you  step  into  this  room?"  , 

"Will  you  walk  into  my  parlour?"  thought  Ferrers 
with  a  new  sinking  of  heart 

"I  wish  I  knew,"  he  said  to  himself,  "whether 
there's  a  real  William  Dawlish — and  what  he  is  and 
what  he's  like  I  " 

He  entered  the  back  parlour  with  the  dapper  little 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  47 

gentleman,  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
another  person,  who  looked  so  ugly  and  surly,  so 
silent,  so  watchful,  and  so  overgrown  with  hair,  that 
it  was  difficult  to  decide  at  a  glance  whether  he  was 
an  old  man  or  a  grey  gorilla. 

"  He  must  be  the  spider  !  "  thought  Ferrers.  "Now 
for  it !  But  he'll  find  me  a  big  fly  to  tackle  !  " 

"My  partner,  Mr.  Drumly,"  said  the  dapper  little 
gentleman  with  a  flourish  of  his  white  hand.  "And 
I'm  Mr.  Drew,  at  your  service.  Be  seated." 

Mr.  Drumly  said  nothing,  but  looked  a  great  deal 
from  under  his  shaggy  brows.  Ferrers  sat  in  an 
attitude  of  expectation,  determined  not  to  commit 
himself. 

"  I  hope,  Mr.  Dawlish/'said  Mr.  Drew,  a  little  un- 
easily, "that  we're  not  detaining  you  ? " 

"*'My  cab's  waiting,"  said  Ferrers;  "but  that's  of 
no  consequence." 

"The  fact  is,"  said  Mr.  Drew,  in  a  little  burst  of 
confidence,  "that  Sir  William  has  overdrawn  a  leetle 
bit,  and  the  cashier  brought  your  cheque  to  us." 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  Ferrers,  "that  it's  not  all  right" 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Drew;  "we'll  make  it  all 
right.  Glad  on  the  whole  that  it  has  happened, 
since  it  has  introduced  us  to  you." 


48  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

1 '  Is  Sir  William  very  well  ? "  asked  Mr.  Drumly, 
speaking  for  the  first  time,  and  in  a  voice  that 
sounded  to  Ferrers  like  the  buzz  of  a  blue-bottle  in 
the  toils  of  a  spider. 

"As  far  as  I  know,"  answered  Ferrers. 

"  You  are  looking  well,"  came  from  Mr.  Drumly, 
and  there  was  a  lifting  of  the  heavy  gorilla  brows 
that  seemed  to  suggest  that  a  smile  was  hid  some- 
where under  the  abundant  hair. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Ferrers  ;   "I  am  well." 

"Mr.  Drumly,  you  know,"  said  Mr.  Drew,  with 
an  indulgent  smile  towards  his  partner,  "goes  in  for 
Health ;  he  believes  in  it ;  it's  a  creed,  a  hobby, 
with  him. " 

"Health,"  said  Mr.  Drumly,  and  the  buzzing  of 
his  voice  was  then  very  loud  indeed,  "is  everything. 
It  is  better  than  Wealth  ;  it  is  better  than  Rank. 
With  Health  a  man  may  do  anything  ;  and  with  fine 
Health " 

"And  Honesty,"  suggested  Drew  (while  Ferrers 
wondered  if  there  was  any  suspicion  of  his  honesty). 

"And  Honesty, "continued  Drumly,  accepting  the 
suggestion  with  a  little  gruffness,  "  a  man  is  the 
most  god-like  creature  under  the  sun." 

"He  is;  he  is,"  said  Mr.  Drew,  looking  at  Ferrers 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  49 

with  approval,  and  running  his  eye  up  and  down  his 
stalwart  person. 

Ferrers  stretched  out  his  long  legs,  leaned  back  in 
his  chair,  and  expanded  his  chest,  to  give  the  full 
effect  of  himself. 

"  Yes  ;  a  healthy  man  that  has  a  fine,  well-grown 
figure  and  an  honest  heart,"  repeated  Mr.  Drumly, 
"is  the  Royalty  of  Manhood/' 

"Like  Saul,  you  know,"  said  Mr.  Drew. 

Ferrers  forgot  who  Saul  was,  but  he  wondered  if 
he  had  an  honest  heart ;  he  scarcely  felt  as  if  he  had, 
in  the  presence  of  these  flattering  old  gentlemen. 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  he,  by  way  of  saying  some- 
thing. 

"You  appear,"  said  Mr.  Drew,  smiling,  "to  take 
your  fine  health  now  as  a  matter  of  course." 

Ferrers  took  alarm ;  had  he  been  playing  his  part 
improperly  ? 

"Well,"  said  he,  "you  see  I've  had  good  health 
so  long  that  I — I  forget " 

"That's  only  as  it  should  be,"  said  Mr.  Drew. 
"  But  you  were  very  queer  before  you  went  away, 
were  you  not  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Ferrers,  "I  suppose  I  was;  I  daresay 

I  was." 

4 


jo  *  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"But  don't  you  remember?"  insisted  Mr.  Drew. 

"  It  is  likely  he  doesn't/'  said  Mr.  Drumly.  "  Why 
should  he  ?  You  forget,  Mr.  Drew. " 

"Ah,  yes  ;  to  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Drew. 

What  could  it  be  Mr.  Drew  forgot  ? 

"And  then,"  said  Mr.  Drumly  again,  "he's  been 
travelling  a  long  while." 

"Yes,  of  course,"  assented  Mr.  Drew.  "Let's 
see,  Mr.  Dawlish ;  how  long  have  you  been  away 
altogether  ?  " 

"  How  long  ? "  repeated  Ferrers.  Yes  ;  how  long 
had  he  been  away  ?  That  was  a  poser  !  "  Let  me 
see,"  he  murmured,  curling  his  moustaches  in  a 
whirl  of  perplexity. 

"A  matter  of  two  years,  I  should  think?"  sug- 
gested Mr.  Drew. 

"Yes,"  said  Ferrers,  eagerly  seizing  the  sugges- 
tion ;  "that's  about  it." 

"And  you  went  straight  off  to  the  East,  didn't 
you  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Ferrers,  pulling  his  self-possession  to- 
gether ;  "to  the  Mediterranean  and  the  East" 

"  Did  you  happen,"  asked  Mr.  Drew,  "to  see  any- 
thing of  the  Egyptian  trouble  ?  " 

Now  Ferrers  felt  he  must  make  a  direct  statement : 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  51 

he  must  risk  it,  and  let  Sir  William  know  what  he 
had  said.  "Oh,  yes,"  said  he.  "I  was  in  most  of 
it — up  the  Nile  and  across  the  desert  with  the  Desert 
Column." 

"Were  you,  indeed?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Drew. 
"  But  I  thought  you  had  left  the  army  long  ago  ? " 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  Ferrers;  "but  they  let  me  serve 
as — a  volunteer,  you  know."  There  seemed  to  him 
nothing  for  it  but  a  plain  falsehood  ;  and  being  in  for 
it,  he  continued  :  "  I  was  by  the  side  of  Lord  Debrett 
all  the  time." 

They  were  interested  :  and  they  put  to  him  several 
questions  which  he  was,  of  course,  able  from  his 
actual  experience  to  answer  sufficiently  and  categori- 
cally. They  were  clearly  pleased  with  him,  and  his 
self-confidence  was  completely  restored. 

"  I  fear,"  said  Mr.  Drew  at  length,  "that  we  have 
trespassed  terribly  on  your  time.  But  you  will  excuse 
us.  We  have  been  very  glad  to  make  your  acquaint- 
ance, and  we  hope  we  shall  meet  again  soon." 

"I  hope  we  shall,"  said  Ferrers  heartily  :  he  liked 
the  old  men,  for  he  was  leaving  their  presence  pleased 
with  himself. 

The  cash  of  his  cheque  had  already  been  placed 
ready  for  him,  and  he  took  it  and  departed.  He  was 


52  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

about  to  step  into  the  waiting  cab,  when  Mr.  Drew 
appeared  at  his  side  and  hastily  laid  his  hand  on  his 
arm.  He  was  invaded  by  the  sudden  thought  that 
he  was  found  out. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  Mr.  Drew  ;  "but  will  you  give 
me  your  address?  We  may  want  to  communicate 
with  you." 

"To  be  sure,"  said  Ferrers.  He  put  his  hand  to 
this  pocket  and  that.  "  I  have  not  a  card  about  me  ; 
but  Number  — ,  Jermyn  Street,  will  find  me  for  some 
time." 

"Ah,"  said  Mr.  Drew;  "the  same  address  as  Sir 
Williams',  of  course  ?  " 

"Yes;  the  same." 

They  repeated  their  adieus,  and  Ferrers  entered  the 
cab.  Seeing  that  it  was  already  more  than  half- 
past  eleven,  he  ordered  cabby  to  drive  to  Jermyn 
Street. 

He  was  surprised — almost  amazed — with  his  suc- 
cess. He  had  not  imagined  he  could  have  so  easily 
got  himself  taken  for  granted  as  William  Dawlish, 
and  by  business  men,  too,  who  saw  all  kinds  of 
people  and  who  must  be  prone  to  suspicion.  He  was 
inclined  to  be  vain.  He  admired  above  all  things 
a  gentleman  like  Lord  Debrett,  and  it  very  naturally 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A    GENTLEMAN.  53 

puffed  him  up  to  be  taken  by  strangers  for  that  kind 
of  person. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  house  in  Jermyn  Street,  he 
was  shown  at  once  into  Sir  William's  sitting-room  on 
the  first  floor ;  for  it  appeared  that  the  baronet  had 
only  lodgings  there. 

"Well,"  cried  Lord  Debrett,  who  was  smoking  at 
the  window,  ' '  how  have  you  got  on,  Ferrers  ?  Have 
you  nobbled  the  old  boys  ? " 

"  I  think  I  have,"  said  Ferrers  ;  and  he  proceeded 
to  relate,  with  a  subdued  glee,  how  he  had  been  re- 
ceived and  entertained  with  conversation  in  the  bank 
parlour. 

"And  didn't  they  offer  you  never  a  drop  of  their 
fine  City  drinks  ?  "  asked  Lord  Debrett 

"Never  a  drop,"  said  Ferrers. 

"Give him  a  drink  now,  Debrett, "said  Sir  William 
with  a  grin.  "  He  seems  to  me  to  deserve  it" 

"And  remember,  if  you  please,  Debrett,"  said 
Ferrers,  ' '  that  I  was  a  volunteer  in  the  Soudan. " 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  a  man-servant 
entered  with  a  note  on  a  tray ;  it  had  just  come,  he 
said,  by  hand.  Sir  William  passed  it  on  to  Ferrers 
with  a  snigger. 

"  For  you,  I  believe,"  said  he; 


54  A  SOLDIER  AND  A   GENTLEMAN. 

It  was  addressed  to  "Wm.  Dawlish,  Esquire;" 
and  it  proved  to  be  a  card  of  invitation  to  a  dance 
that  very  night  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Drew,  in  Park 
Lane.  Ferrers  handed  it  back  to  Sir  William. 

"That's  quick  work,"  said  the  baronet  "I  sup- 
pose Drew  telegraphed  home  at  once  to  send  the 
invitation. — You  must  have  fetched  him,"  he  re- 
marked, with  a  certain  look  of  admiration  at  the 
Life-guardsman's  good-humoured  face.  "  You  must 
go.  Can  you  dance  ?  " 

"  Tolerably,"  said  Ferrers. 

"  Ah,  well,  then,"  said  Sir  William  "  we'll  man- 
age." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  55 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DOLLY. 

THE  genial  Mr.  Drew,  the  wealthy  banker,  entertained 
very  splendidly.  The  ballroom  of  the  evening  was 
a  lofty  marquee  on  the  lawn  of  the  little  garden  of 
his  house.  It  was  hung  with  blush-rose  silk,  and 
floored  compactly  with  polished  oak,  and  thereafter 
adorned  with  ample  cool  green  shrubs,  between  which 
were  set  silk  and  velvet  lounges ;  and  it  was  illumined 
with  electric  lamps  enclosed  in  Chinese  lanterns, 
which  subdued  the  light  to  a  pleasant  tone,  so  that 
the  palest  and  most  weary  guests  looked  fresh  and 
blooming. 

Ferrers  stood  with  Lord  Debrett  by  one  of  the  exits 
into  the  garden.  They  had  arrived  early,  Ferrers 
pleading  for  that  arrangement  so  that  he  might  "find 
his  feet,"  as  he  said,  before  the  crowd  of  people  came. 
Sir  William  was  coming,  but  he  was  not  yet  come. 

"I'm  rather  afraid  of  this,  you  know,"  said  Ferrers. 
"  I  wish  I  hadn't  come.  I  don't  feel  at  home  in  these 


56  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

togs.  I  feel  as  if  I  looked  like  a  waiter  or  a  fool.  If 
I  were  a  little  chap,  I  wouldn't  mind ;  I  wouldn't  be 
noticed. " 

"Oh,  there's  nothing  to  be  scared  about,"  said  Lord 
Debrett.  "  You'll  be  all  right." 

"Now  tell  me  truly,"  said  Ferrers — "  don't  I  look 
an  awkward  beggar  ? " 

"  You  look  first  chop,"  said  Lord  Debrett  promptly. 
—"Come  and  have  a  glass  of  champagne;  that'll 
steady  your  nerves." 

They  went  to  the  buffet  in  the  supper-room. 

"You've  got  to  dance,  you  know,"  said  Lord 
Debrett 

"Sir  William,"  said  Ferrers,  "seemed  to  think  that 
after  all  I'd  better  not.  He  particularly  wants  me 
not  to  dance  with  Miss  Dawlish." 

"Miss  Dawlish?  What  Miss  Dawlish  ?  Not  his 
old  sister  ? " 

"I  suppose  not,"  said  Ferrers  ;  "but  I  don't  know. 
He's  a  close  old  joker. " 

"  He  is,"  said  Debrett  "I  don't  know  what  his 
game  is  at  all.  But  if  there's  another  Miss  Dawlish — 
a  young  un — it  may  be  about  her.  Don't  you  re- 
member he  said  it  concerned  a  lady?  I  never  heard 
he  had  a  daughter,  though." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  57 

"Maybe  his  banker  brother  left  a  daughter,"  sug- 
gested Ferrers. 

"  That  must  be  it !  "  exclaimed  Lord  Debrett  "But 
at  any  rate  you  dance.  You'd  like  a  spin  with  a  nice 
girl,  wouldn't  you  ?  " 

"  I  would,"  said  Ferrers  at  once ;  his  self-confidence 
was  rapidly  returning  under  the  stimulus  of  the  gen- 
erous, foaming  liquor  he  drank. 

' '  Very  well, "  said  Lord  Debrett      "  Let's  go  down. " 

As  they  left  the  room,  Ferrers  saw  two  tall,  distin- 
guished gentlemen  of  about  the  same  height  and  the 
same  handsomeness  of  figure — both  set  off  by  their 
well-fitting  evening  dress — come  straight  towards 
them.  He  had  taken  a  step  to  stand  aside  in  order 
to  let  them  pass,  when  he  stood  stock-still.  "  By 
Jingo  !  "  he  exclaimed.  It  was  himself  and  Lord 
Debrett  reflected  in  a  tall  glass  near  the  door  !  He 
curled  his  moustaches  and  passed  on,  well  satisfied 
with  his  appearance. 

He  had  barely  returned  into  the  ballroom — where 
there  was  now  a  considerable  throng — when  he  was 
met  by  Mrs.  Drew,  a  comfortable  City  lady  with  a 
Roman  nose,  to  whom  he  had  been  introduced  on 
his  arrival. 

'*  I've  been  looking  for  you,  you  naughty  man," 


58  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

said  she.      ' '  I  want  to  introduce  you  to  your  cousin 
Dolly." 

He  was  led  without  any  objection  on  his  part 
towards  a  young  lady  who  stood  fanning  herself  and 
talking  with  a  gentleman.  She  turned  as  they  ap- 
proached and  awaited  their  coming  with  an  evidently 
lively  interest.  She  was  not  tall — she  would  stand 
no  higher  than  Ferrers'  chest — but  she  was  plump, 
comely,  and  bright-eyed.  Mrs.  Drew  introduced 
them. 

"Now  I'll  leave  you,"  said  she.  "It  must  be  a 
great  many  years  since  you  two  have  met,  and  you 
must  have  a  great  deal  to  say  to  each  other — and 
you  must  dance." 

Ferrers  had  nothing  whatever  to  say,  and  Dolly 
did  not  help  him,  for  she  was  shy.  But  he  had 
sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  be  aware  that  under 
these  circumstances  the  best  thing  was  to  ask  her  to 
dance. 

"They  have  just  begun  a  waltz,"  said  he.  "You 
are  not  engaged  for  it  ? " 

"No,"  said  she. 

"  May  I—?  "  he  asked. 

She  took  his  arm  ;  they  stepped  out ;  and  away 
they  went.  Ferrers  thought  her  most  sweet  and 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  59 

adorable.  As  they  swung  round  easily  in  time 
with  the  music,  in  the  close  contact  of  the  waltz, 
Ferrers'  awkwardness  vanished,  and  he  began  to 
talk. 

"It  must  be  a  great  many  years  since  we  met," 
said  he,  making  a  brave  dash  at  a  leading  ques- 
tion. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  she.  "  I  don't  think  we've  met 
since  I  was  a  little  girl  and  you  were  a  big  boy  just 
done  with  school. — You  hadn't  much  of  a  moustache 
then,"  she  continued,  glancing  up  at  him. 

"No,"  said  he  ;  "  but  I  daresay  I  shaved  hard  to 
get  one." 

"  And  you  must  have  stretched  hard,  too,  to  grow 
tall,"  said  she,  with  a  merry  little  laugh.  "I  never 
expected  to  find  you  so  big." 

"Oh,"  said  he.  "I  hope  I'm  not  too  big.  Shall 
I  try  to  grow  smaller  ?  I've  been  afraid  for  a  long 
time  there  was  too  much  of  me. " 

"  Don't  be  foolish,"  said  she.  "  Of  course  you're 
not  too  big. " 

"Ifj/<?«  don't  think  me  too  big,  I  don't  care,"  said 
he,  and  he  tingled  throughout  his  frame  with  the 
thought  of  having  uttered  something  delicious  and 
daring. 


60  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

She  blushed  a  little,  and  was  silent ;  and  he  was 
silent  too. 

Presently  the  waltz  came  to  an  end,  Ferrers  feeling 
he  had  not  had  nearly  enough  of  it,  and  forgetting, 
in  Dolly's  charming  company,  Sir  William's  request 
that  he  would  not  dance  with  Miss  Dawlish. 

"Don't  you  think,"  he  asked,  "that  we  might  have 
another  dance  together  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  she,  as  he  led  her  to  a  seat 
"Not  the  next  one,  at  any  rate.  That  might  seem 
too  noticeable,  even  though  we  are  cousins." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  he  ;   "  the  next  one,  please." 

"Why?"  she  asked;  and  there  was  the  flush  of 
health  on  her  cheek  and  the  sparkle  of  challenge  in 
her  eye. 

"Why  ?  "  said  he.  "  Don't  you  guess  that  I  should 
like  to  be  with  you  as  long  as  possible  ? " 

She  said  nothing,  but  she  blushed  divinely  ;  and 
soon  another  dance — a  waltz  again — was  struck 
up. 

"I'm  glad  it's  a  waltz,"  said  he,  as  they  swung 
away  in  the  sensuous,  intoxicating  motion  :  "it  lets 
you  talk  without  bothering  your  head  about  all  kinds 
of  figures  and  turns  and  twists. " 

"I  suppose,"  said  she,  with  apparent  irrelevance, 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  6 1 

"when  boys  grow  up  to  be  men  they  always 
improve  ?  " 

"  They  ought  to,"  said  he.  "  But  why  do  you  say 
that  ? " 

"Because  I  think  you  are  so  much  nicer  than  you 
used  to  be. " 

"Am  I?"  said  he,  with  a  certain  sense  of  triumph 
over  his  other,  his  former  self,  the  real  William 
Dawlish. 

"  You  don't  remember,  I  daresay,"  said  she,  "what 
a  spoiled,  sulky  boy  you  were ;  how,  whenever  I 
was  down  at  Dawlish  Place,  you  used  to  tease  me 
and  my  dog,  and  not  let  me  look  at  the  treasures  of 
pipes  and  things  you  kept  in  a  box " 

"What?"  said  Ferrers,  unconsciously  identifying 
himself  with  the  person  spoken  of.  "Did  I  smoke 
then  ? " 

"Oh,  yes.  Don't  you  remember  that?  You  even 
smoked  nasty  tobacco  with  the  horrid  stable-boy  and 
the  gardener's  boy. " 

"What  a  disagreeable  fellow  !  "  exclaimed  Ferrers 
with  feeling. 

"Well,"  said  she,  with  a  woman's  tender  talent  for 
excuse  of  those  she  is  interested  in,  ' '  seventeen  is  a 
disagreeable  age.  It  is  eight  years  since  then  " 


62  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"I'm  twenty-five,  am  I  ?  "  thought  he,  with  a  trouble- 
some consciousness  that  he  was  five  years  more 
than  that. 

"And  you  have  seen  and  done  a  great  many  things, 
and  suffered  many  things,  too — haven't  you  ? " 

"Yes  ;  I  suppose  I  have." 

"I  daresay,"  said  she,  with  a  half-shy,  half- 
defiant  glance  up  at  him,  "I  was  not  nice  then, 
either. " 

"I  am  sure,"  said  he,  "you  were  always 
nice. " 

"I  don't  believe  you  remember,"  said  she,  with  a 
laugh,  "  whether  I  was  or  not !  " 

He  was  prevented  from  replying  by  the  sudden 
qualm  of  concern  which  seized  him  on  noting,  as 
they  whirled  round,  that  Sir  William  had  arrived  and 
was  regarding  him  with  no  very  pleasant  aspect, 
while  he  bent  over  a  shrivelled  duenna  with  a  curious 
glittering  head-dress ! 

"Who  is  that,"  he  asked  of  Dolly,  "  that  Sir  William 
is  talking  to  ?  I  can't  see  very  well. " 

"Why,  don't  you  know?  That's  Aunt  Dawlish. 
Have  you  forgotten  her  ?  " 

" Bless  me ! "  he  exclaimed  "Is  that  Aunt  Dawl- 
ish? " 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  63 

"And  why,"  she  asked,  "do  you  call  your  father 
'Sir  William?'" 

"He  is  Sir  William?" 

"  Of  course ;  but  it  sounds  odd  for  you  to  call  him 
that" 

"I  suppose  it  does.  I've  got  into  the  way  of  it 
without  thinking. " 

He  was  glad  that  at  that  moment  she  proposed  to 
slip  from  the  whirl  of  waltzers  to  cool  herself  in  the 
outer  air  of  the  garden.  He  marked,  ere  they  went, 
where  Sir  William  stood — talking  about  him,  he  was 
convinced,  by  the  look  he  had  noted — and  then, 
when  they  were  out,  he  led  her  towards  the  spot  which 
he  had  marked  with  his  eye.  He  found  a  garden 
chair  for  her,  while  himself  leaned  against  one  of  the 
slim  poles  of  the  marquee.  His  experience  of  camp- 
life  had  taught  him  how  to  overhear  a  conversation 
within  a  tent  With  his  pocket-knife  he  made 
a  slit  in  the  canvas  wall  and  leaned  his  ear  into 
it.  His  chance  cut  was  a  good  one.  He  found 
he  was  immediately  against  Sir  William's  shoul- 
der. 

"  The  young  man,"  said  Sir  William,  "  will  give  no 
trouble ;  he's  as  docile  as  a  dog — though  I  did  tell 
him  not  to  dance  with  Dolly.  When  this  is  settled, 


64  ^  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

I'll  give  him  his  conge,  and  he'll  never  know  what 
he  was  used  for. " 

"I  hope  he's  as  simple  as  you  think  him, "said  the 
lady.  "  He  doesn't  look  to  me  as  if  he  were." 

("And  he  isn't,  ma'am  !  "  thought  Ferrers.)  • 

"But  at  any  rate,"  continued  the  lady,  "  I  can  have 
nothing  to  say  to  him." 

"But  you  must,"  declared  Sir  William  with  en- 
ergy. "  Listen  to  me." 

And  Ferrers  heard  no  more. 

"  I  hear  you  have  only  just  arrived  from  abroad," 
said  Dolly  ;  "but  I  suppose  you  know  we  are  going 
down  to  Dawlish  Place  next  week  !  " 

"Yes,"  said  he  :  I've  heard  of  it."  ("But  only 
this  minute,"  he  thought.) 

"You'll  be  there,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  expect  I  shall  be  there." 

Whether,  because  she  thought  him  becoming  dull 
and  unresponsive,  or  because  it  was  time — the  music 
and  the  dance  ceasing  at  that  moment — Dolly  said 
she  wished  to  go  in.  Ferrers  gave  her  his  arm. 

"Take  me  to  Aunt  Dawlish,"  said  she. 

But  as  they  approached  Aunt  Dawlish,  that  lady 
rose  with  a  great  commotion  of  the  glittering  and 
dangling  ornaments  of  her  head-dress  and  fluttered 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  65 

away.  Dolly  incontinently  left  Ferrers'  arm  and  hur- 
ried after  her,  saying:  "What's  the  matter,  aunt?" 
Ferrers  turned  and  looked  at  Sir  William,  who  was 
lowering  and  showing  his  teeth. 

"I  asked  you,"  said  Sir  William,  "not  to  dance 
with  Miss  Dawlish." 

"I  couldn't  help  it,"  said  Ferrers.  "Mrs.  Drew 
introduced  us." 

Sir  William  nodded  once  or  twice  half-absently, 
and  then  moved  away  after  the  ladies  without 
another  word.  Ferrers  was  hurt  and  angry.  He 
turned  and  marched  out  into  the  garden.  He  sat 
down  in  the  chair  Dolly  had  occupied  and  chewed 
his  moustache.  Presently  his  attention  was  seized 
by  some  desultory  talk  he  overheard.  Two  or  three 
young  men  stood  a  little  way  off  smoking  cigarettes. 

"They  tell  me,"  said  one,  "  that  was  young  Dawl- 
ish— that  whacking  six-footer — dancing  with  his 
cousin  Dolly." 

"Nonsense,"  said  another — "not  Sir  Billy's  rip  of 
a  son  !  He  used  to  look  like  a  long  monkey  up  a 
stick !  " 

"  Fact,  though,"  said  the  first  "He's  been  away 
somewhere  for  years — exploring  Central  Asia  or 

Central  Africa  or  Central  America  " 

5 


66  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"Central  something,  I'll  be  bound,"  laughed  the 
other.  "And  he's  lost  all  his  monkeyness. " 

' '  It'll  take  me  a  long  time  to  get  used  to  the  idea 
that  that  big  chap  is  the  Will  Dawlish  I  once  knew, " 
said  the  other.  "I  always  thought  he'd  gone 
cracked — wrong  in  his  upper  story,  you  know." 

"  Tom,"  said  a  third,  "  you  always  get  hold  of  the 
wrong  end  of  a  thing.  Even  at  school,  you  were 
always  getting  your  book  upside  down  and  taking 
hold  of  your  private  frying-pan  by  anything  but  the 
handle.  He  went  wrong,  but  not  in  the  head. 
What's  the  confounded  rhyme?  You  know — 'In 
consequence  of  which  he  was  ruined  iotally,  and 
married  a  lady  in  the  corps  de  ballet. ' " 

"Oh,  that's  it,  is  it?"  thought  Ferrers.  "  If  there's 
a  real  William  Dawlish  in  existence,  he  is  married 
already,  it  appears." 

And  he  rose  and  slipped  away.  He  entered  the 
marquee,  but  he  did  not  linger  there.  He  passed 
through  it  into  the  supper-room  and  went  to  the 
buffet.  While  standing  there,  he  turned  and  saw  a 
black-muzzled  man,  not  in  evening  dress — the  very 
man  he  had  dropped  the  evening  before  into  the 
basin  in  Trafalgar  Square — curiously  regarding  him  ! 
He  wondered,  with  a  sudden  quickening  of  alarm, 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  67 

if  he  were  now  to  be  found  out.  Had  he,  when  he 
talked  to  the  man,  betrayed  that  he  had  been  a  pri- 
vate soldier  ?  He  could  not  remember,  though  he 
did  not  think  he  had.  In  any  case,  he  thought  it 
prudent  to  withdraw.  And  so,  without  stopping  to 
consider  whether  it  was  "good  form"  or  not,  he  got 
his  hat  and  coat  and  left  the  house. 


68  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 


CHAPTER  V. 

BEFORE   THE   ACTION. 

FERRERS  as  he  walked  away  felt  angry  and  humil- 
iated. He  was  not  usually  a  vainly  longing  person. 
He  had  been  well  content  to  serve  in  his  humble 
rank  as  a  soldier,  and  to  have  Lord  Debrett  for  a 
friend  without  wishing  to  be  taken  as  Lord  Debrett's 
equal.  He  would  have  been  satisfied  to  go  on  like 
that ;  but  to  be  set  up  as  a  gentleman  by  one  hand 
and  taken  down  by  another  was  "  not  good  enough/' 
as  he  said  to  himself.  To  be  introduced  to  a  very 
nice  girl — to  a  young  lady,  indeed — and  then  to  be 
rudely  pushed  away  from  her,  was  especially  a  thing 
that  no  right-minded  man  could  endure.  He  felt 
very  much  inclined  to  "kick  over  the  traces"  (to 
use  his  own  words),  to  pull  Sir  William's  nose  and 
call  him  an  insolent  jackanapes,  and  then  throw  up 
the  whole  business.  He  was  as  well  disciplined 
and  docile  a  soldier  as  could  be,  except  where  his 
heart  was  concerned,  and  about  that  he  had  never 
been  asked  to  accept  dictation  or  discipline. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  69 

So  he  marched  along  fuming,  marched  till  his 
anger  had  become  fainter ;  and  then  he  went  to  the 
house  in  Jermyn  Street — next  door  to  Sir  William's 
own  lodging — where  the  baronet  had  secured  him  a 
bedroom. 

Next  morning,  his  resentment  was  gone.  He  was 
himself  again — the  cheerful,  alert,  and  self-reliant 
soldier.  Whilst  shaving  and  dressing  he  turned 
over  in  his  mind  all  his  talk  with  Miss  Dawlish,  and 
the  conversations  relating  to  himself  which  he  had 
overheard  the  evening  before — that  of  Sir  William 
and  his  sister,  and  that  of  the  "Johnnies."  He 
experienced  a  certain  fierceness  of  resentment  at  the 
thought  that  personally  he  must  hold  aloof  from 
any  tender  fancies  about  the  charming  Dolly.  If 
the  "Johnnies  "  were  to  be  believed,  he  was  playing 
the  part  of  a  man  who  some  years  ago  had  been 
cracked  in  reputation  if  not  in  head.  And  if  Sir 
William  and  his  sister  were  to  be  believed,  the 
baronet  was  playing  a  very  risky  game,  in  which 
he,  Ferrers,  was  intended  to  be  an  ignorant  tool,  to 
be  thrown  aside  as  soon  as  done  with.  Naturally, 
Ferrers  did  not  quite  approve  of  that.  He  owed  Sir 
William  neither  love  nor — so  far  as  he  could  see — 
gratitude  ;  and  he  was  therefore  determined  to  find 


yo  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

out  the  secret  of  his  game,  and  have,  if  possible,  the 
"pull  "of  Sir  William,  when  that  grinning  gentle- 
man should  show  a  desire  to  cast  him  off. 

"What,"  he  asked  himself,  "  does  he  really  want 
with  me?"  He  arrested  the  razor  on  his  cheek  to 
consider  a  suspicion  that  rose  before  him.  "  I  believe," 
he  declared  to  himself,  "  the  real  W.  D.  is  dead,  and 
he  wants  to  work  me  off  as  his  son,  to  get  somehow 
at  that  money  his  banker-brother  left ! '' 

The  more  he  examined  that  suspicion,  the  more  he 
got  convinced  of  its  truth,  and — as  is  the  way  of 
men — resolved  to  find  evidence  in  support  of  it  ;  so 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  wait,  and  watch,  and  see,  to 
be  no  party  to  doing  wrong  to  anyone — if  he  should 
discover  that  was  being  attempted — and  at  the  same 
time,  as  became  an  old  campaigner,  not  to  suffer 
grievous  damage  himself. 

He  went  to  breakfast  with  Sir  William,  and  the 
baronet  was  fairly  affable,  but  quite  close  about  his 
business. 

"Here,  "said  he,  with  a  grin,  "  is  another  invita- 
tion for  you — from  Drumly — for  to-morrow  afternoon 
— a  conversazione  or  some  nonsense  of  that  sort. 
You'd  better  go ;  you'll  get  on  all  right,  as  you  did 
last  night.  The  only  thing  I  have  to  ask  of  you  is 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  71 

not  to  hold  conversation  with  Miss  Dawlish — if  she's 
there." 

"Very  well,"  said  Ferrers. 

Ferrers  went  to  the  conversazione.  What  it  was 
about,  he  neither  knew  nor  cared  ;  but  he  saw  strange 
glass  cases  in  the  drawing-room,  containing  spe- 
cimens or  representations  of  grains,  pulse,  and  fruits, 
and  he  saw  a  little  book  called  How  to  live  on  Six- 
pence a  Day,  and  he  thought,  "I  know  ;  I've  done  it ; 
but  I'd  rather  not."  Dolly  was  there,  but  so  was  Aunt 
Dawlish.  He  thought  Dolly  regarded  him  wistfully 
from  afar  off,  and  he  worked  slowly  round  the  room 
to  be  near  her.  He  passed  close  to  her  and  glanced 
a*  her. 

"How  d'ye  do,  cousin?"  she  said.  But  she  did 
not  move  ;  she  scarcely  looked  as  if  she  had  spoken. 

"  I  am  told,"  said  he,  much  in  the  same  manner, 
"  that  I  must  not  hold  conversation  with  you.  Why? 
— I  don't  know." 

"  Isn't  it  absurd  ? "  said  she,  still  without  turning. 
"  Aunt  Dawlish  has  told  me  I  mustn't  talk  to  you. 
What  for?  I  wonder.  Have  you  offended  her?  She 
used  to  be  always  praising  you  to  me." 

"Aunt  Dawlish,"  said  Ferrers  aside,  "is  an  old 
catamaran  !  " 


ya  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"Yes, "said  Dolly,  angrily  turning  her  eyes,  but 
nought  else.  "  Isn't  she  an  old  frump  ?  Old  maids 
are  always  like  that,  I  suppose.  I  hate  them  !  " 

"Good-bye,"  said  Ferrers. 

"Good-bye,  cousin,"  said  Dolly  rather  plaintively. 

Aunt  Dawlish  had  always  been  praising  him  until 
now — praising,  that  is,  the  other,  the  mysterious,  the 
unknown,  the  "cracked"  in  reputation  or  in  head — 
the  probably  dead — Will  Dawlish  !  That  was  another 
fact  to  be  taken  note  of  and  pondered. 

While  he  turned  over  and  pondered  these  things, 
and  paced  solemnly  about  the  room,  he  remarked 
the  black-muzzled  Irish-American,  whom  he  had 
soused  in  the  fountain,  and  whom  he  had  seen  at 
Mr.  Drew's  the  evening  before.  He  moved  about 
as  if  burdened  with  the  cares  of  office.  It  was  clear, 
then,  that  he  was  in  the  service  of  either  Drew  or 
Drumly,  or  that  he  served  the  two  masters,  either  of 
which  conclusions  was  disconcerting  ;  for  it  seemed 
likely  that  he  would  encounter  the  man  frequently. 
Indeed,  he  was  presently  both  disconcerted  and 
surprised  to  see  the  man  approach  him  and  to  hear 
him  say:  "Mr.  Dawlish  ?  "—with  a  look,  Ferrers 
thought,  of  suspicion  and  incredulity. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ferrers. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN,  73 

"Mr.  Drumly,"  said  the  man,  "has  sent  me  to 
find  you.  He  wants  to  speak  to  you." 

"What  now?  "  thought  Ferrers,  as  he  worked  his 
way  after  the  man. 

"Ah,  here  you  are,"  said  Drumly  when  they  met 
at  the  end  of  the  room.  ' '  I'm  very  glad  to  see  you." 

Drumly  grasped  Ferrers'  hand  with  such  cordiality, 
and  looked  up  at  him  with  so  simple  an  admiration, 
that  the  young  man  was  touched  with  shame  to  think 
he  was  doing  anything  to  deceive  so  frank  and  kindly 
a  soul. 

"Let  us  have  a  turn  round,  "said  Drumly,  taking 
Ferrers'  arm  :  "  I  can't  move  about  much  by  myself." 

Ferrers  had  not  seen  Drumly  on  his  feet  before  ; 
and  on  looking  down  now,  he  perceived  that  one  leg 
was  shorter  than  the  other,  and  that  it  ended  in  a 
stilted  boot,  with  a  sole  six  inches  thick.  Then  the 
strong  young  man  understood  the  pathos  of  the  old 
man's  admiration  of  Health,  and  he  experienced  an 
impulse  of  passionate  desire  to  aid  him  with  his 
health  and  strength  ;  though — it  at  once  occurred  to 
him — it  was  absurd  of  a  plain  penniless  soldier  to 
think  of  being  anything  to  a  wealthy  banker.  He 
could  at  least,  he  thought,  be  honest  and  frank  with 
the  old  man,  and  he  came  very  near  at  that  moment 


74  *  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

to  saying:  "I  understand  you ;  I  understand  your 
admiration  of  me  ;  but  I  don't  deserve  it !  I  am  not 
the  person  you  think  I  am  !  I  am  a  fraud — an  im- 
postor !  "  Yet,  he  reflected,  why  should  he  make  a 
fuss  ?  He  had  up  till  now  done  no  harm  to  the  old 
man,  and  he  hoped  he  would  do  none  ;  and  to  blurt 
out  a  confession  could  only  mean  disgrace  and  ruin 
to  himself.  These  impulses  and  hesitations  passed 
over  him  without  leaving  a  shade  on  his  face,  which 
steadily  beamed  down  on  the  old  man  with  a  tender 
and  protective  regard. 

"I  want  to  have  a  look  at  the  cases  with  you," 
said  Drumly,  smiling  up  at  him ;  while  Ferrers 
wondered  that  so  ugly  a  gorilla  face  could  look  so 
pleasant.  "I  call  this  a  Health  Conversazione,  you 
know.  That's  why  I  asked  you  ;  you  ought  to  be 
set  up  on  a  pedestal  as  the  full  expression  of  the 
whole  thing." 

"And  are  these  things,"  asked  Ferrers,  beginning 
to  look  at  the  contents  of  the  cases,  "supposed  to 
be  the  food  I've  been  brought  up  on  ? " 

"Not  exactly — not  exactly,"  said  Drumly;  "or, 
at  least,  not  directly.  You've  been  fed  on  beef  and 
bread  and  such-like,  and  bread  is  from  wheat,  and 
beef  is  grass  wonderfully  worked  up. " 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  75 

"And  turnips  and  hay  and  chopped  straw— oh, 
yes,"  said  Ferrers. 

"You  know  something  of  fanning,  then?"  said 
Drumly,  looking  at  him  with  fresh  interest 

"A  good  deal,"  said  Ferrers,  forgetting  for  the 
moment  his  role  of  Will  Dawlish.  "  I  could  take  over 
the  management  of  a  farm  to-morrow  and  work  it,  I 
think,  at  a  profit." 

"Bless  me  !  "  exclaimed  Drumly,  stopping  to  look  at 
him.  "  You're  quite  accomplished  !  But  how  on 
earth  did  you  learn  farming  to  that  extent?  " 

"  Oh,   I  picked  it  up  here  and  there." 

"  Well,  really, "  said  Drumly,  "  if  you're  so  good  at 
it,  you'd  better  get  Sir  William  to  let  you  manage  the 
estate,  now  that  you've  come  home :  it  needs  you,  I 
believe." 

That  was  all  the  allusion  he  made  to  family  mat- 
ters ;  but  they  continued  to  talk  of  grain  and  pulse 
(Drumly  was  anxious  to  know  if  Egyptian  lentils 
could  be  grown  in  England) ;  and  the  more  they 
talked  the  more  they  were  manifestly  drawn  to  each 
other  by  the  warmth  of  a  mutual  regard. 

Dolly  and  Ferrers  did  not  meet  again  that  day  ;  but 
they  met  the  next  and  the  next  Ferrers,  however, 
could  make  no  approach  to  Dolly,  for  Sir  William's 


76  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

or  Miss  Dawlish's  watchful  eye  was  ever  on  him. 
Why  did  Sir  William  think  it  of  so  much  conse- 
quence that  he  should  not  speak  to  her  ? 

Of  course,  those  who  have  known  much  of  the 
ways  of  young  men  and  young  women  will  at  once 
perceive  that  of  all  methods  that  was  about  the  best 
to  make  these  two  young  people  wish  to  be  near 
each  other.  Ferrers,  who  could  not  be  blind  to  the 
fact  that  Dolly  approved  of  him,  was  chafing  to  be 
near  her  ;  and  Dolly's  wistful  glances  and  melancholy 
face  told  plainly  that  she  was  longing  to  have  her 
cousin  by  her  side.  Ferrers  never  troubled  to  con- 
sider whether  honour  or  anything  of  that  sort  forbade 
him  to  think  of  Dolly  ;  what  man  when  really  involved 
has  ever  taken  such  matters  into  his  consideration  ? 

Now,  if  it  had  been  a  case  in  which  he  was  merely 
a  spectator,  Sir  William  would  have  seen  what  was 
likely  to  occur  as  quickly  as  any  one  ;  but  since  it 
was  a  case  in  which  he  was  prejudiced  and  wrapped 
up,  he  did  not  see  it ;  and  therefore  it  happened  that 
things  fell  out  as  they  did. 

The  day  soon  came  of  which  Dolly  had  fore- 
warned Ferrers,  when  all  the  people  concerned  in 
this  mysterious  business  were  to  assemble  at  Dawlish 
Place,  Sir  William's  "seat"  in  Surrey. 

"Ferrers,"  said  Sir  William  one  morning,  "it  is 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  77 

just  about  the  end  of  the  season  ;  perhaps  you  don't 
know  that  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Ferrers  ;  "  I  know  that." 

"Very  well.  Before  people  have  the  excuse  that 
they  are  off  to-morrow  or  the  day  after  to  the  Con- 
tinent or  to  Scotland,  I'm  going  to  have  a  little 
party  down  for  a  week  to  Dawlish  Place.  I'm  asking 
Drew  and  Drumly  down,  and  you  must  come.  I  tell 
you  now  in  confidence  that  the  business  I  engaged 
you  for  is  coming  to  a  head.  You've  done  very  well 
so  far.  We've  skirmished  up  hill  now,"  said  he  with 
a  grin.  "Now,  we're  going  to  carry  the  enemy's 
position  by  assault." 

"The  enemy,  I  suppose,"  said  Ferrers,  "being 
Mr.  Drew  and  Mr.  Drumly?" 

"The  enemy — on  the  whole — being  Drew  and 
Drumly. " 

"Very  well,"  said  Ferrers.  "I'm  ready  to  march. 
When  do  we  go,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"This  afternoon  ;  by  the  4.30  from  Waterloo." 

Ferrers  rather  "funked  " — I  use  the  word  he  would 
have  used  himself — the  visit  to  Dawlish  Place.  It 
was  one  thing  to  see  "  swell  "  people  for  an  hour  or 
two  now  and  then  ;  it  was  quite  another  to  spend  a 
week  constantly  in  their  company.  He  doubted  if 


78  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

he  could  fulfil  the  requirements  of  his  position.  After 
breakfast  he  went  to  seek  Lord  Debrett,  to  get  from 
him  comfort  and  advice. 

"Ah,  Dawlish,"  said  he,  "how  are  you  getting 
on?" 

"  Oh,  all  right,"  said  Ferrers.  When  the  man  who 
had  shown  him  in  had  withdrawn,  he  continued  :  "It 
makes  me  jump  to  hear  myself  called  by  that 
name." 

"I  couldn't  help  it  before  my  man,"  said  Debrett. 

"I  wish  I  were  well  out  of  this  business,"  said 
Ferrers. 

"Hallo  !     What's  up?" 

"  I  don't  like  Sir  William,  and  I  like  Mr.  Drumly  ; 
and  if  there's  any  harm  meant  against  Drumly,  I'll 
have  to  go  against  Sir  William,  though  I'm  in  his 
pay." 

"But  why,"  asked  Debrett.  "do  you  think  he 
means  harm  to  old  Drumly  ?  I  expect  Dawlish  wants 
to  get  at  his  late  brother's  property — for  Miss  Dawlish, 
very  likely  :  you  remember  he  said  it  was  all  for  the 
sake  of  a  lady.  Perhaps  she  is  being  kept  out  of  her 
rights." 

"Drumly's  not  the  man,"  said  Ferrers,  "to  keep 
anybody  out  of  his  rights.  The  fact  is  I  don't  trust 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  79 

Sir  William.     I'm  in  a  funk  about  the  whole  busi- 
ness. " 

"That's  bad.  It's  not  like  you  to  funk  any- 
thing. " 

' '  I'm  always  in  a  funk  before  an  action. " 

"  Is  there  an  action  coming,  then  ?  " 

' '  Don't  you  know  ?  Drew,  Drumly,  and  lots  of 
other  people,  I  suppose,  are  going  down  to  Dawlish 
Place  to-day  ;  and  I'm  going,  and  Sir  William  says 
that  will  bring  his  business  to  a  head." 

"  The  deuce  it  will  !  " 

"  You're  going  down,  I  suppose  ? "  asked  Ferrers. 

"Well,  I've  been  asked,"  said  Debrett  ;  "but  I 
thought  I  wouldn't  bother." 

"  Oh,  don't  say  that  !  "  exclaimed  Ferrers.  "  I've 
been  depending  on  you  to  back  me  up.  It  may  be 
my  last  action,  Debrett,  and  I  hope  you'll  stand  by 
me." 

"  All  right,  old  chap,"  said  Lord  Debrett  ;  "  since 
you  put  it  like  that,  I  will.  I'll  come  down  to- 
morrow. " 

"  Come  down  to-day,"  urged  Ferrers.  "  We  take 
the  4.30  from  Waterloo." 

"  Very  well  ;  to-day  be  it.  Though  I  must  break 
an  engagement.  I  won't  promise  to  take  that  train  ; 


8o  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

but  I'll  come  down  to-night  in  time  for  dinner,  if 
possible. " 

"  Thanks,  very  much,"  said  Ferrers.  "  There's 
another  thing.  D'  you  think  I  must  buy  some  special 
sort  of  togs  to  take  down  with  me — shooting  togs,  for 
instance  ?  " 

"There'll  be  no  shooting,"  said  Debrett.  "But 
I'll  bring  down  things  with  me  ;  and  my  things  always 
suit  you,  you  know." 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  Ferrers  went  to  Waterloo 
with  Sir  William,  fortified  with  the  hope  of  meeting 
Lord  Debrett  there  ;  or,  if  not  that,  of  seeing  him 
appear  at  Dawlish  Place  by  the  following  train. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  gt 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AT   DAWLISH    PLACE. 

DAWLISH  PLACE  was  a  fine  old  mansion,  of  a  kind  that 
abounds  in  the  southern  counties.  It  was  straggling 
and  low,  having  only  two  stories,  and  it  was  almost 
completely  covered  with  ivy.  Where  the  walls  were 
visible  it  could  be  seen  that  they  were  built  of,  or  at 
least  faced  with,  flints  ;  and  it  had  quaint  high  chim- 
neys, which  the  clustering  ivy  made  to  appear  like 
towers  ;  and  irregular  gables,  which  made  cosy 
nooks,  filled  with  warm  sunshine,  bright  creeping 
flowers,  and  fluttering  birds.  It  was  set  fair  and  free 
on  the  southern  slope  of  the  Surrey  downs,  with, 
before  it,  a  sighing  plantation  of  larches  to  shield  it 
from  the  south-west  weather  sweeping  up  from  the 
Channel ;  and  behind  it,  in  the  high  distance,  a  wood 
of  roaring  and  towering  pines,  which  broke  and  baffled 
the  northerly  and  easterly  blasts  of  winter  and  spring. 
Between  the  house  and  the  larch  plantation,  sloped 

and  undulated,  first  a  luxurious  garden  of  roses  and 

6 


82  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

other  bright  and  scented  flowers,  and  then  an  expanse 
of  the  greenest  turf,  with  here  and  there  a  shady  tree. 
Altogether,  it  looked  as  sweet,  peaceful,  and  homely 
a  "seat"  as  England  could  show.  Ferrers,  being 
country-bred  and  also  something  of  an  artist,  had  a 
good  eye  for  rural  effects. 

"  What  a  jolly  place  !  "  he  exclaimed  as  he  ap- 
proached it  with  Sir  William.  "I  should  like  to 
paint  it." 

"Can  you  paint?"  asked  Sir  William,  looking  at 
him  with  fresh  interest. 

"Paint?     Oh,  yes;  lean  paint" 

"  Have  you  any  of  your  things  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  have  some  sketches — mostly  war  sketches 
I  made  in  Egypt.  I  haven't  done  much  with  land- 
scape. " 

"  That's  capital,"  said  Sir  William.  "  Bring  'em  out 
to-night — will  you  ? — to  show  our  visitors.  It's  sure 
to  fetch  'em  a  good  deal.  A  capital  idea !  "  he 
exclaimed  again. 

"There's  one  thing,  by  the  way,"  said  Ferrers, 
"that  I  must  ask  you  about.  Am  I  still  to  avoid  all 
conversation  with  Miss  Dawlish  ?  " 

' '  Well,"  said  Sir  William  ;  "  no,  not  quite.  I  don't 
see  how  you  can  keep  it  up.  You  needn't  avoid  her, 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  83 

but  you  needn't  seek  her  out :  you  know  what  I  mean." 

"I  think  I  do." 

"  Don't  misunderstand  me,  Ferrers,"  said  Sir 
William,  in  a  burst  of  affability.  "  It's  entirely  on 
account  of  the — a — business  I  have  in  view. " 

"So  I  suppose,"  said  Ferrers. 

The  ordeal  which  Ferrers  especially  dreaded — sit- 
ting down  to  dinner  with  a  "  lot"  of  people — came 
at  length,  and  there  had  yet  appeared  no  Debrett  to 
sustain  him  in  it.  It  proved,  however — like  most 
other  troubles  that  we  fear — worse  in  anticipation 
than  in  experience,  though  there  occurred  before  it 
one  thing  that  shook  his  confidence. 

Ferrers  had  dressed,  and  reluctantly  found  his  way 
to  the  drawing-room.  When  he  entered,  he  saw  that 
all  he  expected  to  meet  were  there,  except  Lord  De- 
brett :  Aunt  Dawlish  and  Dolly,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Drew, 
and  his  friend  Drumly.  The  "  lots  of  other  people  " 
he  had  feared  meeting,  if  they  were  coming,  were  not 
yet  come. 

"Ah,  here  you  are,"  said  Sir  William,  avoiding  the 
use  of  any  name.  "  Mr.  Drew  and  Mr.  Drumly  have 
been  asking  me  about  your  doings  in  Egypt,  and  I've 
been  telling  them  about  your  sketches.  Would  you 
mind  getting  them  ?  " 


84  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Ferrers,  and  withdrew. 

It  was  not  till  he  stood  in  his  room  with  the 
sketches  in  his  hand  that  his  eye  reminded  him  that 
they  were  all  signed  "G.  F."  What  was  to  be 
done?  He  could  not  obliterate  the  initials.  He 
must  invent  some  reason  for  them.  He  would 

say Yes ;  he  was  resolved  what  he  would 

say ;  and  down  he  went  with  the  portfolio  under 
his  arm. 

They  were  much  admired  by  both  ladies  and 
gentlemen:  they  were  "fine,"  "spirited,"  "capi- 
tal," and  all  the  rest 

"Is  that  you,"  whispered  Dolly,  "on  that  great 
long-legged,  long-necked  camel  ?  " 

"Yes;  that's  me,"  said  Ferrers. 

But  Mr.  Drew  was  taken  up  with  a  spirited  repre- 
sentation of  a  section  of  the  fight  at  Abu  Kru. 

"Bless  me!"  said  he.  "I  bought  a  sketch 
exactly  like  this  the  other  day  at  M 'Lean's  !  And 
with  the  same  initials  too  ! — '  G.  F.'  Now,  that  is 
droll !  Isn't  it  ?  " 

They  all  looked  at  Ferrers — curious,  but  mani- 
festly unsuspicious ;  while  Sir  William  chewed  his 
moustache. 

"Oh, "laughed  Ferrers,    maintaining  his  compo- 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN  85 

sure  with  great  resolution,  "  that's  very  likely. 
Several  men  wanted  copies  of  the  thing,  and  having 
plenty  of  time  after  we  got  back  to  Korti,  I  did 
them.  It's  one  of  them  you  must  have  got  Lady 
Blencarrow  got  another,  that  is  now  engraved  in 
her  husband's  book  about  the  expedition." 

"And  I  paid  for  it  as  an  original!"  exclaimed 
Drew  somewhat  ruefully ;  upon  which  all  laughed 
— none  more  heartily  than  his  gorilla-like  partner 
Drumly. 

"But  why  have  you  signed  them  all  'G.  F.,'  Mr. 
Dawlish  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Drew. 

"Well,"  said  Ferrers,  as  if  embarrassed,  "they 
are  the  initials  of  a  nickname  my  comrades  gave 
me,  which  I  don't  think  I  should  utter  in — in  a 
drawing-room. " 

"Oh,"  said  Drew  and  Drumly  together;  while 
Sir  William  laughed  and  clapped  him  on  the 
shoulder. 

In  spite  of  the  success  with  which  he  had 
answered  awkward  questions,  Ferrers  was  a  little 
anxious  :  he  himself  had  left  at  M 'Lean's  the  sketch 
Drew  had  bought,  and  others  also.  What  if  Drew 
should  go  and  scold  M  'Lean,  and  M  'Lean  should 
describe  the  person  who  had  left  them  ?  However, 


86  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

he  thought,  "Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil 
thereof." 

But  his  success  in  that  unlooked-for  difficulty 
helped  to  make  him  tolerably  at  ease  over  dinner. 
Moreover,  Dolly  sat  opposite  him  next  Mr.  Drumly  ; 
she  looked  across  at  Ferrers  very  pathetically  and 
tenderly,  he  thought,  and  as  a  consequence  his 
heart  was  suffused  with  warmth  and  his  head  was 
charged  as  with  the  fumes  of  wine.  He  drank 
some  wine,  of  course ;  but  it  was  not  it  that  went 
to  his  head.  Drew  insisted  on  talking  of  Egypt, 
and  Drumly  of  Health,  and  Ferrers  replied  to  both 
sufficiently.  He  eloquently  enlarged  on  the  chances 
of  Egypt  under  English  rule  ;  of  its  productiveness  ; 
of  the  patient  toil  of  its  fellaheen.  He  spoke,  he 
declared,  as  one  who  knew  something  of  soils,  and 
the  soil  of  Egypt  was  as  fit  now  to  bear  corn  and 
rice  to  feed  all  England  as — he  had  been  told  by 
men  who  had  read  a  great  deal  of  that  kind  of  thing 
—it  had  fed  Rome  in  its  ancient  days. 

"And  you  think  we  ought  to  hold  it?"  asked 
Drew,  as  if  hanging  on  his  answer. 

"Certainly,"  said  Ferrers;  and  Drew  leaned  back 
in  his  chair  satisfied. 

"By  the  way,  Sir  William,"  said  Drumly,  "  I  had 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A   GENTLEMAN.  87 

no  idea  your  son  had  such  a  knowledge  of  agricul- 
ture as  he  seems  to  have :  soils  and  crops,  grains  and 
roots,  he  appears  to  know  all  about.  I  was  saying 
to  him  the  other  day  that  he  ought  to  persuade  you 
to  let  him  manage  the  estate.  You  don't  make  so 
much  out  of  it  as  might  be  made — do  you  ? " 

"No  ;  I'm  afraid  I  don't,"  said  Sir  William,  with  a 
vicious  snap.  "But  before  he  takes  over  the  whole 
estate,  perhaps  he  might  try  his  hand  at  the  manage- 
ment of  the  Home  Farm. " 

"A  good  idea,"  said  Drumly  seriously. 

"You  don't  take  him,  Drumly,"  laughed  Drew. 
"Sir  William  means,  of  course,  domestic  matters. 
'  Home  Farm  ! '  Don't  you  see  ? " 

"See  what?"  asked  Drumly. 

"See  that  Sir  William  means  tfiat  trie  young- man 
had  better  set  up  house  first. "  And  he  laughed  again. 

As  for  Sir  William,  he  sat  silent ;  he  nodded,  and 
"smiled,  and  smiled,  and " 

Ferrers  on  his  part  sat — with  a  fixed  smile — for  a 
second  or  two  in  dense  incomprehension,  and  when 
that  passed,  in  a  rush  of  shame  and  resentment  The 
sly,  roundabout  allusion  of  Drew  was  to  his  possible 
marriage — his,  as  William  Dawlish  !  With  whom  ? 
With  whom  but  his  vis-b-vis  I — with  Dolly  ?  Was  not 


88  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

that  plainly  declared  by  the  laughter  and  pointed 
looks  of  Drew  and  Mrs.  Drew  ;  by  the  downcast, 
blushing  face  of  Dolly  herself;  and  even  by  the 
meaning  smiles  and  glances  exchanged  by  the  ser- 
vants in  waiting  ?  Was  that,  then,  he  asked  himself 
in  quick  thought,  the  kernel  of  Sir  William's  plot  ? — 
the  consummation  towards  which  he  was  urging  his 
carefully  laid  plans  ?  But  he  could  not  really  mean 
him — him,  George  Ferrers  ! — to  marry  Dolly  !  Spec- 
ulation, however,  on  all  these  points  set  his  brain  in 
a  whirl,  and  he  recovered  with  a  voice  in  his  ear. 

"Potatoes,  sir?" 

A  servant  was  at  his  elbow  with  a  dish  of  vege- 
tables. He  helped  himself  and  continued  his  dinner. 
In  spite  of  the  doubts  and  questions  that  were  surg- 
ing in  upon  his  attention,  he  must  go  on  playing  his 
part  of  a  person  who  was  not  himself,  who  was  pro- 
bably very  unlike  himself  in  nature  if  not  in  person. 

Having  had  his  mind  thus  brusquely  turned  to 
consider  his  situation,  he  regarded  it  with  more  con- 
cern and  uncertainty  than  had  yet  troubled  him.  He 
was  like  a  soldier  who,  going  fairly  and  cheerily 
along,  comes  to  himself  to  find  that  he  is  in  the 
stronghold  of  the  enemy,  and,  like  the  soldier,  he 
began  to  look  warily  about  him.  The  glances  and 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  89 

smiles  of  the  servants  a  moment  before  made  him 
note  them  :  what  did  they  think  of  him  ? — whom  did 
they  take  him  for? — for  their  young  master? — and  if 
they  did,  how  long  it  must  be  since  they  had  seen 
him,  or  else  how  like  each  other  he  and  the  true  Will 
Dawlish  must  be,  or  must  have  been  !  That  last 
reflection  made  his  flesh  creep.  Did  he  really  and 
truly  bear  a  close  resemblance  to  a  dead  man  ?  And 
was  it  because  of  that  resemblance  that  Sir  William 
had  thought  he  might  readily  appear  in  the  dead 
man's  place  ?  Imagine  his  consternation  when,  as 
he  was  thinking  thus,  Dolly  bent  a  little  towards  him, 
and  with  a  glance  at  the  wall  behind  him,  said  :  "I 
have  not  seen  you  look  so  like  your  portrait  before. " 

He  turned,  and  saw  an  oil-painting  of  a  beardless 
youth  of  eighteen  or  so,  slim  and  presumably  tall, 
with  a  pensive,  frightened,  and  somewhat  worn  look. 
The  startling  thing,  however,  was  that  in  the  set  of 
the  hair  and  in  the  general  cast  of  the  features — 
except,  perhaps,  in  the  thinner  and  finer  modelling 
of  the  nose — the  portrait  of  the  youth  might  be  taken 
for  a  portrait  of  him,  George  Ferrers,  when  young  ! 

' '  Yes, "  said  Sir  William,  with  Delphic  duplicity, 
"  he  did  look  very  like  that  then." 


90  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  MISSED  ASSIGNATION. 

WHEN  the  ladies  withdrew,  Ferrers  held  the  door 
open,  and  Dolly  passing  out  last  whispered  to  him  : 
"  Don't  be  long  ;  I  want  to  talk  to  you. " 

He  had  barely  sat  down  again  when  Mr.  Drew 
posed  him  with  a  question.  "  Do  you  mind  telling 
us  now  what  was  that  nickname  with  the  initials 
"G.  F."?  I've  been  trying  to  guess,  and — well,  I 
don't  think  I  can,  unless  it's " 

"Stop  a  moment,"  said  Mr.  Drumly,  interrupting 
him  with  a  laugh  ;  "I  want  to  have  a  guess  too. 
Suppose  we  write  our  guesses  down  and  hand  them 
to  Mr.  Dawlish  ? " 

That  was  agreed  to,  and  done. 

"No,"  said  Ferrers,  when  he  had  looked  at  them  ; 
"  both  wrong.  But  I  tell  you  what,"  and  he  laughed. 
"You'll  be  here  for  a  week — is  not  that  so? — and 
you  can  have  a  good  spell  at  guessing.  Whichever 
guesses  right  shall  have  all  my  sketches." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  91 

The  proposal  was  hailed  with  laughter  and  wel- 
come. 

"  Won't  you  have  a  cut  in,  Sir  William  ? "  said  Mr. 
Drew. 

"No,"  said  Sir.  William  promptly;  "I  think  not 
It  wouldn't  be  fair,  because  I  believe  I  know  the  nick- 
name.— Shall  we  join  the  ladies  ? " 

When  they  went  to  the  drawing-room,  Ferrers 
looked  out  eagerly  for  the  expected  opportunity  of  a 
talk  with  Dolly ;  but  Miss  Dawlish  kept  such  dragon- 
guard  over  her  that  he  could  say  nothing  of  any 
private  significance. 

"I  didn't  know,  cousin,"  said  Dolly,  "that  you 
could  draw  and  paint  so  beautifully.  I  wish  you 
would  teach  me." 

' '  I  will  gladly, "  said  Ferrers. 

"Let  us  look  at  your  sketches  again  ;  "  and  she 
rose  quickly  and  crossed  to  the  table  where  they 
lay. 

But  Aunt  Dawlish  was  equal  to  her  move.  "Yes," 
said  she,  "they  are  lovely — aren't  they!  And  so 
spirited."  And  she  took  Dolly's  arm  with  great  show 
of  affection  and  accompanied  her  to  the  table.  Other 
attempts  of  Dolly  to  detach  herself  from  her  aunt 
fared  no  better. 


92  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

Presently,  Sir  William  suggested  that  the  gentle- 
men should  go  to  the  billiard-room,  while  the  ladies 
talked  of  going  to  bed.  Ferrers  was  doubtful  what 
to  do  :  if  Debrett  had  been  present,  he  might  have 
helped  him.  He  concluded,  however,  that  Sir  Wil- 
liam must  expect  him  to  appear  in  the  billiard-room, 
so  he  rose  and  was  following  the  other  men.  He 
passed  close  to  Dolly  to  give  her  a  private  look  of 
sympathy,  when  Dolly  slipped  a  scrap  of  paper  into 
his  hand.  As  soon  as  he  was  out  of  the  room  he 
looked  at  it  "  Meet  me,"  it  read,  "  in  half  an  hour 
in  the  Picture  Gallery." 

The  Picture  Gallery!  He  had  not  the  slightest 
idea  where  the  Picture  Gallery  was  ! 

In  the  billiard-room,  he  tried  to  lead  Sir  William 
into  talk  about  his  pictures,  thinking  that  he  might 
then  offer  to  show  his  guests  the  Gallery.  But  Sir 
William  did  not  respond,  and  Ferrers  did  not  press 
the  matter;  for  he  bethought  him  that  if  they  did  go 
to  the  Gallery,  they  might  stay  long  enough  to  catch 
Dolly  in  the  fact  of  keeping  a  clandestine  appoint- 
ment. The  half-hour  was  fast  running  out.  In  des- 
peration he  whispered  a  falsehood  to  Sir  William. 

"  Where  is  the  Picture  Gallery? "  he  asked.  "  Mrs. 
Drew  has  asked  me  to  show  it  to  her." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  93 

"  Not  to-night,  surely?  "  whispered  Sir  William  in 
surprise. 

' '  No  ;  to-morrow. " 

"Ah,  well,"  answered  Sir  William,  "I'll  show  you 
first  thing  in  the  morning.  It's  at  the  other  end  of 
the  house — the  part  that  has  been  built  out " 

Ferrers  lingered  till  there  were  but  five  minutes  of 
the  half  hour  to  run  ;  then  he  said  he  thought  he 
must  go  to  bed,  and  left  the  billiard-room. 

To  have  an  appointment  with  the  only  woman  in 
the  world  and  not  to  be  able  to  keep  it !  To  have  so 
much  to  say,  so  much  to  know,  so  much  to  confess, 
so  much  to  ask,  and  withal  to  be  dumb  with  doubt 
and  apprehension — to  long  to  see  Dolly,  and  yet  to 
be  afraid  to  meet  her  alone  ! — and  no  chance  of  being 
resolved  one  way  or  another !  He  must  find  the 
Gallery  !  It  was  "  at  the  other  end  of  the  house  ;  " 
but  what  that  might  exactly  mean,  and  whether  the 
Gallery  was  upstairs  or  down  he  could  not  guess. 
He  tried  to  be  cool  and  collected.  He  understood 
that  it  was  of  no  use  for  him  to  run  off  headlong  down 
this  passage  or  up  those  stairs.  He  could  not  ask 
anyone  openly  to  show  him  to  "the  Picture  Gallery  ; " 
but  he  thought  that  if  a  servant  should  come  along 
with  a  candle  he  would  ask  him  or  her  to  light  him 


94  A  SOLDIEK  AND  A  GENTLEMAN: 

to  the  door.  Perhaps,  if  he  should  chance  on  the 
way  to  it,  he  might  encounter  Dolly  herself  either 
going  or  coming. 

So  he  adventured  in  the  direction  in  which  he 
thought  he  ought  to  go.  He  passed  down  a  corridor 
which  was  dimly  lighted  by  a  small  lamp  at  either 
end.  As  he  advanced  he  saw  the  glimmer  of  a  light 
appearing  as  if  from  above  about  half-way  down  the 
passage.  He  went  on  very  carefully  with  his  eye 
on  it  till  he  perceived  that  there  was  a  recess,  and  in 
the  recess  a  small  winding  staircase,  which  someone 
was  slowly  descending  with  a  candle.  He  waited 
an  instant,  till  he  saw  that  the  bearer  of  the  candle 
was  a  woman,  and  that  woman  Aunt  Dawlish  ! 
Where  was  she  going  ?  He  waited  a  moment  longer, 
till  the  glimmer  of  her  candle  was  almost  in  his  eyes  ; 
then,  observing  a  door  close  by  him,  he  swiftly  and 
noiselessly  turned  the  handle  and  slipped  into  the 
dark,  closing  the  door  again  without  latching  it.  He 
was  about  to  strike  a  match  to  discover  where  he 
was,  when  a  thin  slice  of  light  slipped  past  the  door 
into  the  room.  The  door  slowly  opened,  the  light 
widened,  and  he  had  barely  time  to  see  he  was  in  a 
dingily  furnished  room,  whose  walls  were  covered 
with  books,  and  to  whip  himself  behind  a  curtain, 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  95 

when  Miss  Dawlish  entered  with  her  candle.  She 
closed  the  door,  and  leisurely  she  went  and  took  a 
book  from  the  shelves,  and  then  sat  down  at  the 
table ;  so  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  meant  to  wait  there 
for  some  time. 

Ferrers  was  trapped.  There  was  no  keeping  an 
appointment  in  the  Picture  Gallery  that  night,  and 
there  was  no  escape  from  that  room  so  long  as  Miss 
Dawlish  chose  to  remain  !  He  found,  however, 
that  he  was  standing  against  a  French  window, 
which  opened  to  the  ground.  He  gently  turned  the 
key  and  the  latch,  opened  the  moving  half,  and 
stepped  out  into  the  summer  night.  He  had  barely 
slipped  out  when  he  heard  Miss  Dawlish  come  to 
the  window,  whether  because  she  had  heard  the 
sound  he  made,  or  because  she  feared  the  fastenings 
were  undone.  He  darted  aside  against  the  ivy,  and 
Miss  Dawlish  not  only  latched  and  locked  the  win- 
dow with  great  expedition,  and  with  sharp  complaints 
about  the  "rank  carelessness"  of  servants,  but  also 
shuttered  it ;  and  Ferrers  realised  that  he  was  shut 
out  I 


96  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

POINTS     OF     VIEW. 

FERRERS  stood  among  the  roses  and  looked  about 
and  above  him.  The  faint  stairs  twinkled  in  the 
stilly  night,  the  trees  sighed  sleepily,  and  vague, 
secret-seeming  shadows  lurked  around.  The  cool 
air  was  laden  with  fragrance,  and  his  soul  was 
bedewed  with  the  languorous  richness  of  the  odours 
of  rose  and  honeysuckle,  even  as  his  head  was 
moistened  and  refreshed  by  the  summer  dew.  It 
was  such  a  night  as  brings  men  face  to  face  with  the 
seriousness  and  seductiveness  of  Nature,  as  attunes 
their  souls  to  large  and  noble  thoughts,  and  at  the 
same  time  tempts  them  to  indulge  in  the  sensuous 
fancies  of  love. 

Ferrers  was  a  man  rather  of  action  than  of  con- 
templation ;  his  training  as  a  soldier  had  induced  on 
him  something  of  the  spirit  of  the  not  too  scrupulous 
adventurer,  and  his  experience  of  barrack-life  had 
somewhat  coarsened  the  fibre  of  his  affections.  Yet, 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  97 

withal,  the  true,  deep-seated  Ferrers  was  a  person  of 
serious  mind,  honest  heart,  and  romantic  passion. 
Standing  therein  the  vast  stillness  and  melting  beauty 
of  the  night,  he  became  for  the  first  time  really  aware 
of  himself,  and  alarmed  at  the  contrary  impulses  and 
desires  that  were  pulling  him  this  way  and  that. 
Without  troubling  to  inquire  how  this  strange  effect 
was  produced,  he  resolved  to  "have  it  out  with" 
himself. 

He  supposed  he  could  get  admitted  to  the  house  an 
hour  thence  as  easily  as  at  that  precise  moment ;  he 
did  not  particularly  care  whether  he  were  let  in  at  all  ; 
in  any  case,  he  would  have  a  quiet  walk.  He  was 
in  evening  dress,  and  he  had  no  hat ;  but  these  facts 
did  not  trouble  him  :  he  was  used  to  being  exposed 
and  to  going  bareheaded.  So  he  put  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  and,  with  his  eye  fixed  on  the  distance, 
sauntered  away  through  the  garden  and  across  the 
park. 

He  set  himself  steadily  to  examine  the  conditions 
of  his  situation  :  how  had  he  got  into  the  coil  in 
which  he  was  involved  ?  When — in  an  extremely 
needy  hour — Sir  William  Dawlish  had  proposed  to 
pay  him  a  hundred  pounds  to  merely  call  himself 
"William  Dawlish"  and  behave  as  such,  he  had 

7 


98  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

promptly  closed  with  the  offer,  thinking  of  it  simply 
as  a  daring  "lark,"  and  seeing  nothing  of  the  painful 
issues  and  possibilities  of  his  assumption.  Now,  in 
little  more  than  a  week,  how  was  he  situated  ?  He 
found  that  he  had  not  been  able  to  behave  as  if  he 
had  been  a  block  of  wood  or  an  automatic  machine, 
or  even  an  actor ;  he  found  that,  in  his  own  proper 
person  as  George  Ferrers,  he  had  been  caught  into 
the  kindliest  and  friendliest  feeling  for  one  of  "  the 
jokers  "  whom  he  had  engaged  to  get  the  better  of 
in  some  way  in  his  character  as  William  Dawlish. 
He  suspected  that  a  match  was  planned  between  him, 
as  William  Dawlish,  and  the  young  lady  whom  George 
Ferrers  found  the  most  adorable  woman  in  the  world ; 
and  last  and  worst  of  all,  he  believed  that  young  lady 
loved  him  as  William  Dawlish.  Would  it  be  im- 
possible for  her  to  love  him  as  George  Ferrers  ?  Ah, 
if  she  only  could !  But  the  wish,  the  longing,  was 
manifestly  absurd.  He  could  not,  and  he  would  not, 
hide  from  himself  the  fact — bitter  as  gall  though  it 
was  to  swallow  ! — that,  though  he  was  in  all  suffi- 
cient respects  as  strong,  healthy,  honourable,  and 
complete  a  man  as  any  in  the  land,  he  was  shut  out 
from  all  hope  of  marrying  a  lady  of  Dorothy  Dawl- 
ish's  position.  He  was  but  a  poor  soldier,  with 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  99 

nothing  to  do — absolutely  on  the  level  of  the  un- 
employed workman — and  if  he  ever  married  at  all, 
he  must  marry  a  housemaid,  a  shop-girl,  or,  at  best, 
a  lady's-maid.  He  did  not  know  why  Sir  William 
planned  to  work  this  deceit  off  upon  his  niece,  or 
how  he  meant  to  consummate  it — he  hoped,  indeed, 
no  real  harm  was  intended  her — but  he  could  no 
longer  continue  his  share  in  it  It  was  unfair  and 
cruel  to  Dolly — the  dearest  and  loveliest  of  girls  !  It 
might  be  painful  and  humiliating  for  her  to  know  the 
truth  ;  but  to  continue  the  deceit  was  shameful  and 
unendurable.  He  would  go  to  Sir  William,  tell  him 
he  found  it  impossible  to  fulfil  his  engagement,  and 
ask  to  be  let  off  his  bargain  :  he  would  forego  all 
promised  advantage,  and  return  penniless  to  London, 
a  sadder  but  a  wiser  man. 

By  the  time  he  had  got  as  far  with  himself  as  that, 
he  discovered  that  his  hair  was  wet,  his  shirt-front 
sodden,  and  his  feet  drenched  with  dew  :  he  be- 
lieved he  had  frequently  been  walking  on  the  turf, 
and  he  saw  that  he  was  coming  out  on  the  carriage- 
drive  just  by  the  lodge.  The  door  of  the  lodge  was 
open,  and  in  the  light  which  flowed  from  it  Ferrers 
saw  a  man  standing  in  his  shirt-sleeves  smoking  a 
churchwarden  pipe.  When  he  came  over  against 


100  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

him,  he  perceived  he  was  an  oldish  man,  and  guessed 
he  was  the  lodge-keeper.  The  man  hailed  him  and 
stepped  out  towards  him. 

"Ah,  theer  ye  are,  Mas'r  Willium  !  Ah've  been 
wonderin'  if  ye  was  to  drop  down  an'  see  me.  Ah 
on'y  heerd  a  hour  or  two  agoo  as  how  ye  was  at  'ome 
again.  Heigh  !  But  ye've  been  years  an'  years  in 
foreign  parts,  an'  it's  a  thick  lump  o'  time  since  ah've 
seen  ye  !  Ee,  but  hain't  ye  growed  bigger  an'broad- 
er  ?  Sewer-/y  /  But  ye're  a  fine  man  now  ! ' 

"Humph  !  "  said  Ferrers,  not  knowing  well  what 
to  say  and  not  troubling  much.  "You  know  me, 
then  ? " 

"Know  ye!  Ah  should  think  so!  Thik-theer 
dare-devil  way  o'  yourn  tells  me  !  '  Who  but  Mas'r 
Willium,'  says  ah  to  myself,  'can  be  gallivantin' 
out  wi'  ne'er  a  'at  on  his  'ead  ? '  No  more  gallivan- 
tin's  now,  though  !  He,  he,  he  !  "  And  the  old  man 
laughed  a  creaking,  mirthless  laugh.  "Ah've 
heerd  ye're  goin'  to  be  what  we  terms  a  family 
man. " 

"  Something  of  that  sort,  I  suppose,"  said  Ferrers. 
"But  I  must  say  'Good-night;'  I  find  I'm  very 
wet  with  the  dew." 

"  Heigh  !    But  your  voice  is  got  stronger  than  it 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  ioi 

used  to  be  too  !  Dear,  dear  !  An'  to  think  that  ah 
might  niver  ha'  seen  ye  thik-heer  blessed  night,  if  th' 
old  woman  hadn't  got  as  crass  as  two  sticks  ! — about 
nothin'  at  all,  of  course  !  So,  ah  comes  to  th'  door 
for  a  smoke,  an'  ah  sees  ye  !  " 

"Well,  good-night,"  said  Ferrers. 

"  Good-night,  Mas'rWillium— Hullo  !  Who's  thik- 
heer  ? " 

A  man — a  tall  man — had  walked  up  to  the  gate 
from  the  road  and  had  pulled  the  clanging  bell. 
The  lodge-keeper  went  to  the  gate,  while  Ferrers 
stood  still  to  see  if  the  tall  man  could  be  Lord  De- 
brett.  The  gate,  after  a  word  of  parley,  was  opened, 
and  the  man  entered.  It  was  Debrett 

"What?  Is  that  you — er — Dawlish?"  he  asked 
as  he  approached.  "  What  are  you  doing  down 
here  like  that  ? " 

"  Gallivantin'  my  lard,"  laughed  the  old  man. 
"  He,  he,  he  !  He  was  always  a  gallivanter  ! 
— Good-night,  Mas'r  Willium  ;  good-night,  my 
lard  ! " 

"  He  seems  to  know  you,"  said  Debrett,  as  they 
walked  away  together. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ferrers;  "better than  I  know  myself. 
— But  how  is  it  you  have  just  appeared  ?  " 


102  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"  I  could  not  get  away  early  ;  but  I  remembered 
my  promise  to  you  to  be  here  to-day.  So  I  tele- 
graphed to  your  father " 

"  My  father?" 

"  Your — what  do  you  call  it? — putative  father,  Sir 
William. " 

"  Hang  it,  Debrett,"  said  Ferrers  gloomily ;  "don't 
joke  about  that." 

Debrett  looked  closely  at  him,  and  continued  :  "I 
telegraphed  that  I  would  come  by  the  last  train  and 
walk  over  with  a  handbag  from  the  station.  My 
man  will  come  down  with  my  things  first  train  in 
the  morning." 

"I  see,"  said  Ferrers. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Debrett,  "you  must  be  still 
in  a  funk.  How  are  things  going  ?  Anything  hap- 
pened ?  Surely  nothing  much  in  the  way  of  action 
can  have  been  done  on  the  first  night  of  meet- 
ing." 

"No  ;  nothing  much  has  happened,  except  that  I 
have  had  to  tell  another  lie  or  two. — Look  here,  De- 
brett ;  I'm  going  to  clear  out  of  the  whole  business." 

"Hallo!"  said  Debrett.  "What's  that  for? 
Spoil  the  sport  just  when  it's  going  to  come  off  1  " 

"  I  don't  find  it  sport  any  longer,"  said  Ferrers. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  103 

"What?  Has  Dawlish  been  cutting  up  rough? 
He's  capable  of  that,  I  daresay  ;  but  hadn't  you 
better  just  have  a  straight  talk  with  him  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  have  a  talk  with  him,"  said  Ferrers, 
"but  not  for  that  reason  :  I've  nothing  in  particular 
to  complain  of  in  his  behaviour." 

"  What  the  dickens  is  the  matter,  then?" 

"  It's  just  this,  Debrett  :  I'm  beastly  uncomfort- 
able about  the  whole  affair.  The  longer  I  go  on 
with  it,  the  more  mess  I'm  getting  into." 

' '  Oh  !     Bothered  about  Drumly  again  ?  " 

"  That's  part  of  the  mess  ;  but  the  worst  is  some, 
thing  I  found  out  to-night.  We  were  talking  at  din- 
ner, all  very  friendly.  Sir  William  said  something 
about  home-farming,  and  that  joker  Drew  took  it 
that  he  was  speaking  about  setting  up  house.  I  didn't 
see  the  thing  quite  at  first.  Everybody  was  smiling 
or  looking  comic  about  it  ;  I  even  caught  the  serv- 
ants tipping  the  wink  to  each  other.  '  Hallo  !  ' 
says  I  to  myself,  '  there's  something  in  this  !  ' 
And  then — you  know  how  you  see  a  thing  all  in  a 
flash,  and  wonder  that  you  were  such  an  ass  as  not 
to  see  it  before.  '  By  Jingo  1  '  thinks  I,  '  they 
mean  me  and  Miss  Dawlish  to  set  up  house  !  " 

"  You  and  Miss  Dawlish  ?  "  said  Debrett. 


I04  A  SOLDIER  AND  A   GENTLEMAN. 

"  You  know  what  I  mean  :  me,  as  Will  Dawlish, 
to  marry  Dolly  Dawlish." 

"  Oh,  is  that  the  game  ?  "  exclaimed  Debrett. — 
"  Dolly,  I  suppose,  has  lots  of  money,  then  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  that  ;  but  money 
or  no  money,  it's  an  abominable  shame  to  treat  a 
girl  in  that  way,  and  I'm  not  going  to  do  it. " 

"  But,"  said  Debrett,  "  it  struck  me  when  you  first 
told  me  about  Dolly  that  you  were  lost  in  admiration 
of  her — in  fact,  that  you  were  quite  gone." 

"So  I  was,"  said  Ferrers  bitterly  ;  "  the  more  fool 
I.  I  didn't  see  or  think  where  I  might  be  going,  till 
I  heard  this  to-night.  But,  by  Jingo  !  I  know  now, 
and  I'm  going  to  stop  it  !  " 

"  I  don't  quite  see,"  murmured  Debrett. 

"  Don't  you  see,"  explained  Ferrers,  somewhat  in- 
coherently, "  that  it's  one  thing  to  hang  about  with 
a  kind,  lovely  girl  like  Dolly,  talking  to  her  and  look- 
ing at  her,  and  feeling  that  she  likes  to  be  with  you  ? 
It  comforts  you  and  sets  you  up  without  your  quite 
knowing  why.  But  it's  another  thing  altogether 
when  you  see  all  that  brought  slap  down  to  the 
practical  business  of  marriage — marriage  with  the 
person  that  you're  not,  but  that  you  pretend  to  be  ! 
Then  you've  got  to  stand  up  and  tell  yourself  the 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A   GENTLEMAN.  105 

truth,  and  say  to  yourself  :  '  Come  now,  you've 
just  been  bluffing  yourself  all  this  time.  You've  been 
admiring  the  girl  ;  and  you've  got  fond  of  her — 
doosed  fond,  I  may  say — and  there  may  be  no 
great  harm  in  that  ;  but  when  you're  properly  fond 
of  a  girl,  and  you  think  she  is  of  you,  then — why — 
you  want  her  for  your  own  self.  But  here  there 
can't  be  any  marriage  ;  first  because  the  girl  likes 
you,  not  for  your  being  yourself,  but  for  your  being 
to  her  somebody  else  ;  and  second,  because,  even  if 
she  liked  you  for  yourself,  she  couldn't  marry  you. — 
You  know,  for  all  your  being  a  big  long-legged  brute, 
and  the  son  of  a  fine  honest  old  father  that  always 
paid  his  way,  you're  no  better  than  a  beggar  1  ' 
Ton  my  soul,  Debrett  !  isn't  that  the  plain  downright 
truth  ?  And  isn't  the  proper  thing  to  do — the  only 
fair  thing  to  the  girl — to  stop  the  whole  game,  and 
let  Sir  William  explain  it  as  he  likes  ?  Let  him 
call  me  a  villain,  an  impostor,  if  he  likes  !  By  Jove  ! 
I  think  I  deserve  it  !  " 

"  But  stop  a  minute,"  said  Debrett  "  Perhaps 
you're  mistaken  about  the  marriage." 

"I'm  not  mistaken,  Debrett,"  said  Ferrers  posi- 
tively. "  I  can't  quite  explain  to  you  all  the  little 
things  that  make  me  certain  about  it ;  but  certain  I 


106  A  SOLDIEK  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

am  that  Sir  William's  game  is  a  match  between 
William  and  Dolly  Dawlish." 

"  It  comes  to  this,  then,"  said  Debrett  with  a  laugh, 
"that  you,  in  a  sort  of  way— don't  you  know  ? — are 
your  own  rival !  Look  here ;  why  don't  you  go  in 
and  beat  the  other  fellow  ? " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Go  in  and  win  Miss  Dolly  Dawlish  for  your  very 
own  self — for  the  man  called  George  Ferrers." 

•'  What  do  you  take  me  for,  Debrett  ?  Hang  it !  I 
may  not  be,  as  you  told  me  yourself,  the  kind  of 
thing  you  call  a  gentleman  ;  but  I'll  try  to  pass  for  it, 
and  I'll  not  be  a  cad ;  and  I'd  rather  go  into  penal 
servitude  than  deceive  that  girl  any  more. " 

"No  need  to  deceive  her,  my  boy.  Tell  her 
straight  who  you  are,  and  ask  her  if  she'll  marry  you. " 

"I  couldn't  do  it,   Debrett." 

"But  look  here." 

"No ;  I  couldn't  do  it.  I  couldn't  lower  myself  to 
that :  to  ask  her,  a  lady,  used  to  the  life  she  leads, 
educated,  and  very  likely  rich,  to  marry  me  ! — me — 
who  can  hardly  talk  to  her,  and  who  hasn't  a  shilling, 
nor  much  chance  of  earning  one  honestly  ! — ask  her, 
delicate  and  fine  and  sweet  as  a  flower,  to  live  with 
a  rough  beggar  like  me,  and  in  the  way  I'll  have  to 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  107 

live  !  No,  by  Jingo  !  I'm  not  going  to  get  myself 
laughed  at  and  insulted  by  proposing  such  a  thing  !  " 

"But,  my  dear  chap,  there  would  be  no  need  to 
live  like  that  She'd  have  plenty  of  money." 

"And  do  you  think  I'd  live  on  her  money?  " 

"But  poor  women  marry  rich  men  every  day  and 
live  on  their  money." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Ferrers  :  "  they're  women, 
and  it's  what  is  expected  of  them. — You  don't  seem," 
he  continued  after  a  pause,  "to  have  much  good 
advice  to  give. " 

"No,  old  chap,"  said  Debrett ;  "I  don't.  But 
just  listen  to  me  one  moment.  I  know  more  of  this 
kind  of  life  and  this  kind  of  people — ladies  and  all — 
than  you  do.  And  what  I  say  at  this  particular 
moment  is  this :  before  you  throw  up  the  whole  game, 
set  Sir  William  Dawlish  against  you,  lose  your 
money,  and  spoil  your  chance  of  getting  anything  to 
do  after  this,  try  to  make  sure  that  the  young  lady 
would  thank  you  for  throwing  it  up  and  being  so 
lofty." 

"What?  Do  you  think  she'd  rather  I  went  on 
like  this?" 

"  She  might.     All  I  say  is,  '  Try  to  find  out.' " 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Ferrers  fiercely. 


108  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"At  anyrate,  think  it  over  again.  Sleep  on  it: 
you  can't  make  a  fuss  till  to-morrow. " 

And  that  word  of  calm  worldly  advice  allayed  the 
impetuous  heat  of  Ferrers'  righteous  resolution  ;  and 
he  said  to  himself  that  it  might  be  better  to  sleep 
on  it. 

As  it  happened,  he  could  have  had  no  interview 
with  Sir  William  that  night,  even  had  his  determina- 
tion been  hot  upon  the  point ;  for  when  they  rang 
the  bell  at  the  hall-door,  they  were  admitted  by  a 
sleepy  footman,  who — staring  at  Ferrers — informed 
them  that  they  were  "hall  gone  to  their  rooms."  So 
Ferrers,  with  a  last  look-out  into  the  summer  night, 
which  was  becoming  all  vague  white  mist  below — 
out  of  which  stood  the  tops  of  the  trees,  and  dim, 
twinkling  stars  above — brushed  the  dew  from  his 
hair  by  rumpling  it  with  his  hand,  and  took  off  his 
coat  and  shook  it  before  the  wondering  footman. 
Then  he  followed  the  domestic  upstairs  with  Debrett 

At  the  door  of  his  room  Debrett  gripped  his  hand. 
"Sleep  on  it,"  he  repeated. 

"Will  you  be  about  early?"  asked  Ferrers. 

"As  early  as  you  like." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 


109 


CHAPTER   IX 
SIR  WILLIAM'S  FRANKNESS. 

FERRERS  was  astir  betimes.  He  drew  up  his  blind, 
flung  open  his  window,  and  took  a  great  draught  of 
the  clear  morning  air.  The  sun  shone  gloriously, 
dissipating  the  vapours  of  the  night  and  the  sleepy 
fragrance  of  the  flowers  ;  a  lark  carolled  overhead  in 
the  fresh  gaiety  of  rejoicing ;  and  Ferrers  felt  that  it 
would  be  a  delightful  world  if  he  only  had  a  clear 
and  easy  conscience.  When  he  had  dressed,  he  went 
to  find  Debrett.  He  thought  he  might  not  yet  be  up, 
so  he  knocked  at  his  door,  and  receiving  no  answer, 
he  turned  the  handle  and  entered.  Debrett  was  still 
asleep  in  bed.  Ferrers  shook  him  by  the  shoulder, 
and  at  once  he  was  awake  and  alert,  as  became  a 
soldier.  ' '  Hallo  !  "  said  he,  ' '  what's  the  matter  ?  " 

"You  promised,"  said  Ferrers,  "to  be  up  early." 

"What's  the  time  ?" 

"A  little  after  six." 

"What's  the  use,"  grumbled  Debrett,  "of  getting 


1 10  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

up  when  there's  nothing  to  do  ?  There's  nothing  to 
shoot." 

"There's  rabbits,  I  daresay,"  said  Ferrers. 

"  Rabbits  ! " 

"  Well,  we  can  have  a  walk  and  a  talk,  and  a  look 
at  the  crops." 

"  Look  at  the  crops — and  shoot  rabbits  !  "  ex- 
claimed Debrett.  "  There  speaks  the  farmer  1  I 
wish  you  wouldn't,  Ferrers. — Is  the  door  closed?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Ferrers.  "  And  1  am  a  farmer 
—or  at  least  a  farmer's  son,  and  not  a  lordly  sports- 
man." 

"  Oh,  you  feel  like  that  again,  old  chap.  All  right. 
I'll  get  up  and  have  a  look  at  the  crops  with  you." 

Ferrers  went  down  into  the  garden  and  hung  about 
until  Debrett  appeared,  when  they  strode  away  be- 
yond the  bounds  of  the  park — stretching  their  long 
legs  in  unison — and  entered  upon  devious  paths  by 
coppice  and  corn-field. 

"  May  Mr.  William  Dawlish  smoke  a  pipe  in  the 
country  ?  "  asked  Ferrers. 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Debrett.     "Why  not  ?  " 

"  That's  just  what  I  thought :  'Why  not  ? '  "  said 
Ferrers.  "Still,  I  thought  I'd  like  to  know  from  an 
authority  if  it  was  the  correct  thing. " 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  1 1 1 

"  So  you've  made  up  your  mind  to  go  on  with  the 
game  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  have  not,  Debrett.  I'm  going  to  put  the 
matter  to  Sir  William  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Well,"  said  Debrett,  "  remember  what  I  said  to 
you  last  night  :  before  you  throw  it  all  up,  be  sure 
that  the  young  lady  will  approve." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ferrers.  "  And  I  must  have  a  word 
with  her  about  another  thing.  I  forgot  to  tell  you 
last  night  that  when  she  saw  we  could  get  no  talk 
together  in  the  drawing-room,  she  asked  me  on  a  slip 
of  paper  to  meet  her  in  the  Picture  Gallery. " 

1 '  She  did— did  she  ?    Well  ?  " 

"I  didn't  meet  her." 

"Why?     How  was  that?" 

•'I  couldn't  find  the  Picture  Gallery.  I  was  in 
search  of  it,  when  I  had  to  retreat  before  Aunt  Dawl- 
ish  into  a  dark  room,  where  she — without  knowing 
it — pursued  me,  and  drove  me  out  bareheaded  into 
the  garden." 

"Oh,  that  was  it!"  laughed  Debrett.  "But  how 
are  you  going  to  explain  all  that  to  Miss  Dolly  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  don't  see  how  I  can  explain  it 
without  telling  her  the  truth.  And  then  I'm  in  this 
double  fix  :  I  ought  to  tell  Sir  William  first  that  I 


112  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

must  tell  her,  and  that  will  make  an  explanation 
necessary  to  him  of  the  necessity  of  telling  her. " 

"And  so  you  would  have  to  betray  the  lady's  con- 
fidence ?  That  won't  do." 

"No;  I  see  that  won't  do  at  all.  But  what  will 
do?" 

"Let  things  be  as  they  are ;  and  tell  Miss  Dolly 
that  you  could  not  keep  the  assignation  because  you 
had  to  flee  before  Aunt  Dawlish.  Then  she'll  laugh 
at  a  big  soldier  like  you  running  away  from  Aunt 
Dawlish,  and  it'll  be  all  right." 

"Yes;  that  might  do.  And  then,  I  know,  she'd 
look  so  charming,  I'd  want  to  take  her  in  my  arms. 
— No ;  I  must  first  have  my  talk  with  Sir  William  :  I 
can't  go  on  like  this." 

" What  an  obstinate  fellow  you  are!"  exclaimed 

Debrett 

"Debrett,"  said  Ferrers,  and  he  stopped  and  laid 
his  hand  on  his  friend's  shoulder,  "  you  don't  under- 
stand me  in  this.  I  feel  about  it  more,  far  more, 
than  you  think.  I'm  hit— hit  very  hard  here.  I 
could  die  for  that  girl !— and  I'm  deceiving  her  !  My 
boy,  you  can  only  tell  what  the  grinding  feeling  of 
that  is  like  when  you're  really,  right-down,  in  love. 
If  I  go  on  as  I  have  been  going,  seeing  her,  sitting 


f 

A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  113 

with  her,  and  talking  to  her,  I  shall  have  to  do  some- 
thing mean  :  I  shall  have  to  run  away  with  her ! 
That  would  be  madness,  you  see,  and  I  want  to  get 
out  of  it. " 

Debrett  looked  on  him,  and  saw  that  he  must  be 
grievously  smitten  ;  his  hopes,  his  fears,  and  his 
desires  were  so  extreme  and  contradictory. 

"All  right,  my  boy,"  said  Debrett  quietly.  "I 
understand,  and  I  sympathise  ;  and  I'll  stand  by  you 
as  your  friend.  Shall  I  break  the  matter  to  Sir 
William  ?  " 

"No;  thank  you,  Debrett, "  said  Ferrers  ;  "I  think 
I'd  better  go  through  with  it  myself." 

' '  The  sooner  the  better  then.  Shall  we  go  back  ? 
You  may  have  a  better  chance  of  getting  him  alone 
before  breakfast  than  after. " 

So  they  returned  towards  the  house.  And  the  sun  rose 
higher  and  hotter  in  the  heavens,  and  the  larks  rose 
with  a  less  joyous  song  to  a  less  height,  and  returned 
to  earth  more  quickly.  They  had  got  nearer  Dawl- 
ish  Place  by  only  a  field  or  two,  when,  on  the 
margin  of  a  coppice  a  little  way  off,  they  descried 
three  men. 

"There  75   Dawlish,    I    believe,"   said    Debrett; 

"but    who   are    the   others?     They   can't  be    the 

8 


114  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

bankers :  Drew  and  Drumly  don't  stand  so  high  as 
that,  do  they  ? " 

"No,"  answered  Ferrers ;  "they're  not  Drew  and 
Drumly.  Besides,  Drumly's  lame." 

That  he  said  on  seeing  the  two  strangers  part  from 
Sir  William  and  walk  hurriedly  off.  They  were  both 
tall,  but  the  one  seemed  powerfully  built,  and  the 
other  slimly  and  delicately.  They  moved  away 
arm-in-arm ;  but  it  appeared  to  Ferrers  that  the 
stronger  was  hastening  the  steps  of  the  weaker. 
They  skirted  the  coppice  and  then  disappeared  round 
its  end. 

"I  wonder  who  they  are?  "  said  Debrett.  "They 
don't  look  like  farmers ;  they  didn't  behave  like  ser- 
vants.— But  here's  Dawlish." 

The  baronet  appeared  to  have  just  discovered 
them.  He  lightly  waved  his  hand,  and  sauntered 
to  meet  them. 

"Been  looking  at  your  covers,  Dawlish ?"  asked 
Debrett  "  How  are  the  birds  ? " 

"Oh,  they  seem  in  good  condition. — But  how  is 
it  you  are  out  so  early?  I'd  have  thought  that, 
coming  in  so  late  as  you  did,  you'd  have  wanted  to 
lie  in  bed  in  the  morning. " 

"I  did  want  to  lie  in  bed  ;  but  this  man  would 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  \  \  5 

have  me  out.     He  has  got  a  bad  liver  or  some- 
thing. " 

"  He  doesn't  look  like  a  man,"  said  Sir  William, 
with  one  of  his  polite  grins,  "that  knows  he  has  a 
liver. " 

"Perhaps  it's  a  bad  conscience,  then,"  said 
Debrett.  ' '  I  know  he  has  got  something  the  matter 
with  him." 

"Oh  !  "  said  Sir  William,  with  a  quick  look  of  sus- 
picion. 

"And  I  want  a  word  with  you  about  it,"  said 
Ferrers. 

"With  me?"  exclaimed  Sir  William.  "But  I'm 
neither  a  doctor  nor  a  parson." 

"  But  it  concerns  you,"  said  Ferrers. 

"Oh  !— Well,  say  on." 

"Shall  I  leave  you  ?"  asked  Debrett 

"If  Sir  William  Dawlish  doesn't  mind,"  said 
Ferrers,  "I'd  prefer  you  to  stay:  you've  known  of 
this  business  since  the  beginning." 

"Stay  by  all  means,"  said  Sir  William,  looking 
more  keenly  suspicious  ;  while  Ferrers  paled  some- 
what, and  was  sensible  of  such  an  agitation  beneath 
his  waistcoat  as  he  had  experienced  when  he  had 
first  faced  "the  jokers  "  Drew  and  Drumly. 


Il6  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"The  fact  is,"  began  Ferrers,  "I'm  getting  more 
and  more  uncomfortable  in  this  business,  and  I  want 
to  put  it  to  you  whether  you  can't  let  me  off  my 
bargain. " 

"That's  awkward,"  said  Sir  William.  Then,  with 
a  sharp  look:  "You  seemed  comfortable  enough 
last  night :  what's  the  reason  of  the  change  ? " 

"  I've  been  turning  over  things  in  my  mind,  and 
I  find  I  can't  go  on." 

"  But  why  ?  I  think  you  owe  me  a  reason — I  do, 
Ferrers.  Having  gone  so  far,  I  think  you  should 
frankly  explain  to  me  why  you  can't  go  on  to  the  end. 
What  are  you  afraid  of?" 

"Well,  then,  frankly— I  am  as  much  afraid  of 
myself  as  of  anybody  or  anything." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Sir  William. 

"Somehow  or  another,  I've  got  to  care  more  for 
Miss  Dolly  Dawlish  than  I  ought  to  do." 

"You  shouldn't  have  done  that,"  said  Sir  William 
with  a  snap. 

"How  could  I  help  it?  You  slip  into  things  of 
that  sort  before  you  know." 

"Oh  !  He,  he  !  "  laughed  Sir  William  ;  and  there 
was  a  quality  of  cynical  derision  in  his  laugh  which 
irritated  the  other. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  117 

"It  is  very  absurd  in  me,  I  know.  But  a  man 
can't  help  his  feelings,  though  he  can  help  how  he 
behaves.  That's  why  I  confess  it  to  you,  and  ask 
you  to  let  me  go. " 

•'Have  you  told  the  young  lady  that  you  are  in 
love  with  her  ? " 

"Most  certainly  not.  That  would  have  been  be- 
having improperly  to  her  and  to  you.  You  don't 
seem  to  understand  what  I  said." 

"Oh,  quite.  Well,  so  long  as  you  say  nothing 
about  it,  there's  no  harm  done." 

"But,  good  heavens,  Sir  William  !  have  I  no  feel- 
ing ?  If  I  go  on  seeing  the  young  lady  and  talking 
to  her,  I  may  lose  control  of  myself !  " 

"But  you  mustn't,"  said  Sir  William  with  a  grin. 
"  If  you  have  controlled  yourself  so  long,  you  can 
surely  control  yourself  for  a  day  or  two  longer; 
that's  all  I  ask  of  you.  I  put  it  to  you  on  the  point 
of  honour.  I  went  into  this  business  in  full  depend- 
ence on  your  good  sense  and  cleverness ;  I  have 
performed  my  part ;  is  it  fair  in  you  to  abandon 
yours  ?  You  see  we  stand  or  fall  together  in  this. 
If  you  give  up  your  part,  the  whole  thing  is  burst  up  ; 
and  it  will  be  more  than  a  fiasco  ;  it  will  be  a  dis- 
grace both  to  you  and  to  me." 


Il8  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

Ferrers  pulled  his  moustache  in  silence. 

"If  you  go  away  now,"  said  Sir  William,  "how 
am  I  to  explain  your  disappearance  ? " 

"You  will  excuse  my  saying,"  resumed  Ferrers, 
"that  there  is  something  else  troubles  me  besides 
my  own  feelings.  I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  have  a 
suspicion  that  you  are  using  me  for  a  purpose  I  don't 
like  being  used  for. " 

"What  do  you  mean? — Speak  out." 

"Well,  I  don't  like,"  declared  Ferrers,  "to  be  in 
the  position  of  a  sort  of  promised  husband  to  Miss 
Da  wlish. " 

"Oh,  that's  what  you  don't  like,"  laughed  Sir 
William.  "  But  what  makes  you  think  you  are  in 
that  position  ?  " 

"Will  you  answer  me  truly,  Sir  William?"  said 
Ferrers,  in  a  tone  which  might  be  taken  for  demand 
or  entreaty  according  to  the  temper  of  the  listener. 
"  Is  there  a  marriage  arranged,  or  going  to  be 
arranged,  between  William  Dawlish  and  Miss  Dolly 
Dawlish  ?  " 

"Now  you're  asking  questions,"  said  Sir  William. 
"You  are  contravening  the  compact  I  made  with 
you  as  a  good  soldier  to  carry  out  instructions  with- 
out demanding  explanations.  —  I  think,  Debrett, 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  ng 

that  is  something  like  the  form  of  words  I  used  ?  " 

"  It  is,  Dawlish,"  answered  Debrett. 

Ferrers  said  nothing  ;  but  he  tugged  at  his  mous- 
tache, and  his  look  became  more  grim  and  obstinate. 
Sir  William  noted  the  look,  and  diplomatically  set 
himself  to  mollify  and  disperse  it. 

"I'll  not  be  hard  on  you,  however,"  he  said.  "  I'll 
admit  that  your  guess  is  correct — in  part,  only  in 
part  But — there  is  no  possible  William  Dawlish  but 
yourself.  It  is  a  sad — a  humiliating — thing  for  a 
father  to  confess,  and  I  must  say  I  had  hoped  to 
avoid  the  confession  that  my  son  is  to  all  intents  and 
purposes  non-existent ;  to  the  world  and  all  its  duties 
and  affairs  he  is  practically  dead." 

That  seemed  so  obviously  sincere  and  heartfelt  a 
confession,  and  tallied  so  well  with  what  Ferrers  had 
overheard  at  the  outset  of  the  business,  that  he  ac- 
cepted it  without  hesitation,  and  indeed  felt  rather 
sorry  he  had  extorted  it 

"There  is,"  continued  Sir  William,  "in  the  expec- 
tation of  the  trustees,  you  understand,  the  prospect 
of  a  match  between  Miss  Dolly  Dawlish  and 
Mr.  William  Dawlish.  —  Now  you  know.  What 
then?" 

"Then,  Sir  William,"  answered  Ferrers,  "I  can't 


120  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

carry  out  my  share  of  the  plot :  I  can't  go  on  deceiv- 
ing the  young  lady." 

"Deceiving?"  exclaimed  Sir  William.  "What 
would  you  say  if  the  young  lady  were  herself  a  party 

to  the  plot?  " 

t 

"By  Jove  !  "  exclaimed  Debrett. 

"  I  don't  believe  it ! "  said  Ferrers  flatly  :  the 
mere  suggestion  contradicted  his  belief  in  the  young 
lady's  frankness. 

"You  are  somewhat  unreasonable,"  said  Sir  Wil- 
liam with  a  shrug ;  "  but  a  little  temper  is  excusable 
in  you  at  present.  Now  I'll  be  kind  to  you,  and, 
just  as  one  man  to  another,  I'll  explain  the  whole 
matter.  I'm  hard  up,  and  have  been  for  long ;  a 
mortgage  will  foreclose  soon,  and  if  it  do,  I'm 
ruined. — You  perceive  I  am  quite  frank  with  you. 
All  that  my  niece  knows  :  I  have  told  it  her ;  and 
she  is  only  too  glad  out  of  her  prospective  abundance 
to  help  her  uncle." 

"She  is  a  trump  !  "  exclaimed  Debrett. 

"  She  is  a  Dawlish,"  said  Sir  William  sententiously. 
"My  brother  left  her  his  heir,  with  a  certain  rever- 
sion to  me,  you  understand ;  but  I  cannot  in  my 
need  touch  the  reversion,  nor  even  raise  money  on 
it,  and  my  niece  can  only  touch  her  own  money  on 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  121 

the  eve  of  her  marriage.      You  understand  that?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  said  Debrett. 

"But  even  then  she  cannot  touch  it  unless  her 
trustees,  Drew  and  Drumly,  approve  of  the  match. 
Now  they  know  that  my  brother  wished  that  my 
son,  if  possible,  should  marry  his  daughter.  There- 
fore, we  have  devised  this  marriage — this  marriage 
which  cannot  come  off,  because  when  the  time 
comes  William  Dawlish  will  be  gone. " 

Ferrers  said  nothing  ;  but  his  thought  was  troubled 
by  two  points  that  gleamed  upon  him  from  Sir 
William's  revelation  :  Dolly,  then,  knew  he  was  not 
William  Dawlish,  and  she  was  consciously  playing, 
for  her  uncle's  sake,  a  game  with  him.  These  points 
were  so  disheartening  to  him,  simple  and  modest  as 
he  was,  that  he  at  once  called  himself  a  fool  for  his 
presumptuous  beliefs  and  doubts,  and  resolved  to 
have  done  with  the  business,  escape,  and  forget  all 
about  it 

"Now  I  have  frankly  told  you  the  state  of  things," 
said  Sir  William,  ' '  what  do  you  say  ?  It  must  at 
the  longest  be  all  over  in  a  day  or  two,  and  you 
may  judge  for  yourself  whether  or  not  Miss  Dawlish 
is  conscious  of  the  state  of  things. " 

"I'll  go  on    then,  and  see  it  out,"  said  Ferrers 


122  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

quietly.  He  was  not  quite  sure  he  was  doing  right 
in  assenting ;  for  he  was  bewildered  as  well  as  dis- 
heartened by  the  new  and  plausible  view  of  things 
presented  by  Sir  William,  and,  moreover,  he  heard 
in  his  ear  the  suggestion  which  Lord  Debrett  had 
made  but  a  few  minutes  before  :  "Try  to  make  sure 
that  the  young  lady  would  thank  you  for  throwing 
it  up." 

"Very  well,"  said  Sir  William,  as  if  it  did  not 
much  matter  whether  he  did  or  not. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Debrett  about  five  minutes 
after  the  matter  had  been  thought  concluded.  "I 
thought  it  would  be. " 

They  were  approaching  the  house — they  had  indeed 
crossed  the  park  and  were  entering  on  the  garden 
proper — when  they  saw  the  very  two  men  from  whom 
Sir  William  had  parted  by  the  coppice  hurriedly 
cross  the  end  of  the  garden  and  disappear  somewhere 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  stables.  Ferrers,  having 
his  attention  so  much  occupied  with  other  things, 
would  have  made  but  light  note  of  it,  had  he  not 
remarked  the  look  of  resentment,  almost  of  fury,  with 
which  Sir  William  regarded  them.  That  look  fixed 
the  incident  in  his  memory.  There  was  another 
thing  smote  him  disagreeably  ere  they  reached  the 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  123 

hall  door  :  an  open  vehicle  drove  up  bearing  luggage 
and  two  men,  one  of  whom  was  probably  Debrett's 
servant,  while  the  other  was  certainly  the  servant  of 
Mr.  Drumly — the  black-muzzled  Irish-American. 

But  all  common  disagreeable  things  were  forgotten 
in  the  deep  unaccountable  misery  he  felt,  when,  on 
chancing  to  raise  his  eyes  just  when  under  the  wall 
of  the  house  and  against  the  richest  rose-bushes,  he 
espied  Dolly  Dawlish  looking  down  on  him  from  an 
open  casement.  When  she  knew  herself  seen,  she 
withdrew,  and  hid  behind  a  flaunting  curtain ;  but 
Ferrers  still  felt  that  her  eyes  were  on  him. 


134  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 


CHAPTER  X. 
"THE  BEST  LAID  SCHEMES  o*  MICE  AND  MEN- 


FERRERS'  feeling,  however,  speedily  underwent  an- 
other fluctuation.  All  the  party  met  at  breakfast ; 
but  Dolly  had  neither  word  nor  look  for  Ferrers  :  her 
regard  was  wholly  given  to  Lord  Debrett.  Ferrers 
was  hurt,  and  a  little  jealous,  not  understanding  that 
a  woman  has  eyes  and  sense  in  the  back  of  her  head, 
and,  while  appearing  engrossed  with  one,  is  truly 
observing  and  comprehending  the  whole  behaviour 
of  another.  He  conversed  with  Drew  and  Drumly ; 
but  he  scarce  knew  what  he  said,  for  his  eyes  and  his 
thoughts  were  given  to  Dolly. 

When  breakfast  was  over  he  felt  he  could  endure  it 
no  longer :  he  must  know  how  he  stood.  He  followed 
Dolly  from  the  room  and  caught  up  with  her  as  she 
was  crossing  the  hall. 

"Miss  Dawlish,"he  said. 

She  turned  and  looked  at  him  as  if  she  scarcely 
knew  him,  and  he  felt  chilled  and  daunted. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  125 

"Won't  you  come  out  into  the  garden  for  a  little?" 
said  he. 

"  I  was  just  going,"  she  coldly  answered. 

He  got  her  hat  and  his  own  from  the  hat-stand, 
and  together  they  went  out. 

"  I  was  in  the  garden  soon  after  six  this  morning," 
said  he  casually. 

' '  Why  did  you  get  up  so  early  ? "  she  asked,  as 
with  indifference,  while  she  paused  to  pluck  a  rose, 
which  she  found  she  could  not  accomplish  without 
the  aid  of  his  knife.  "  Had  you  a  bad  conscience  ?  " 

"  Yes, "he  answered  ;  "a  very  bad  conscience." 

"Why?"  she  asked,  still  without  looking  at 
him. 

"For  one  reason, "said  he,  "because  I  failed  to 
keep  an  appointment  last  night  with" — "the  dearest 
girl  in  the  world,"  he  was  going  to  say — "a  young 
lady, "he  really  said. 

"And  why  did  you  do  it?"  she  demanded,  at 
length  looking  at  him.  "  Are  you  not  ashamed  of 
yourself?" 

"No;  not  ashamed,"  said  he;  "sorry — sorry  be- 
cause I  couldn't  help  it." 

"Couldn't  help  it?"  she  echoed,  turning  with  a 
look  of  frank  astonishment  "  I  really  believe  it  was 


126  A  SOLDIEK  AND  A   GENTLEMAN. 

that  you  didn't  care  a  bit  to  come.  You  thought  it 
was  bold  in  me  to  ask  you,  and  you  wanted  to  make 
me  feel  it  was.  You  have  been  very  unkind  !  " 

"You  misunderstand  me  altogether,"  said  he, 
almost  beside  himself  with  her  evident  distress.  ' '  I 
am  not  unkind  :  you  do  not  know  how  kind  I  could 
be — if  I  might.  And  no  one  could  think  anything 
you  did  was  bold  ;  only  frank  and  beautiful. " 

"  Why,  then,"  she  asked  more  quietly,  "did  you  not 
come  ?  " 

"Because,"  he  repeated,  "I  couldn't.  I  was  on 
my  way  to  the  Picture  Gallery,  when  Aunt  Dawlish 
came  along.  I  did  not  wish  her  to  see  me,  so  I 
slipped  into  a  dark  room  till  she  should  pass.  She 
didn't  pass ;  she  came  in  and  sat  down  to  read.  I 
was  behind  a  window  curtain,  and  I  got  through  the 
window  into  the  garden.  Then  I  saw  that  by  the 
time  I  had  made  a  fuss  to  get  in  at  the  hall-door  it 
would  be  too  late  to  find  you." 

"I  waited  a  long  while,"  said  she,  "till  I  was 
ashamed.  And  then  a  horrid  idiotic  laugh  rang 
through  the  Gallery,  and  I  was  afraid,  and  ran 
away. " 

« '  A  laugh  ?  "  exclaimed  Ferrers.  "  Was  there  any 
one  there  ?  " 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A   GENTLEMAN.  137 

"No;  and  I  never  heard  that  the  Gallery  was 
haunted.  Did  you?" 

"  No,"  he  answered.  "  But  how  sorry,  how  very 
sorry  I  am  that  I  was  the  cause  of  your  trouble  and 
fright. " 

Indeed,  as  he  looked  at  her  and  wondered  if  that 
beautiful  and  delicate  creature  really  cared  for  him, 
knowing  he  was  not  her  cousin,  and  was  not  ashamed 
thus  simply  to  confess  it,  he  was  wildly  elated,  and 
the  next  moment,  as  he  thought  of  his  own  unworthi- 
ness,  he  felt  humbled  and  chastened.  And  still,  as 
he  looked  at  her,  a  doubt  invaded  him,  too,  of  Sir 
William's  truthfulness,  and  a  suspicion  that  it  was 
impossible  Dolly  should  guess  he  was  other  than 
William  Dawlish.  If  she  did,  could  she  be  so  frank 
and  unconstrained  with  him  ? 

Meanwhile,  Sir  William  had  appeared.  He  saun- 
tered down  towards  them,  dipping  his  nose  here  and 
there  to  sniff  at  a  flower,  and  when  he  was  up  with 
them  he  slipped  his  hand  into  Ferrers' arm.  "One 
moment,"  said  he,  and  drew  him  aside.  "You  asked 
me  last  night,"  he  went  on  in  a  low  voice,  "where 
the  Picture  Gallery  is  :  you  wanted,  I  think  you  said, 
to  show  Mrs.  Drew  the  pictures  ? " 

"I  did  say  so,"  answered  Ferrers. 


128  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"Well,  if  you  come  with  me  now,  I'll  show  you." 
Ferrers  turned  and  begged  Dolly  to  excuse  his  leav- 
ing her. 

-^ 

"Where  are  you  going?"  she  asked  quite  simply. 

And  quite  simply  he  answered,  "To  the  Picture 
Gallery ; "  while  Sir  William  first  frowned,  and  then 
smiled  somewhat  wryly. 

"Do  you  think,"  said  Sir  William  to  Ferrers,  in  a 
low  voice,  when  they  had  set  off  together,  "that  it 
is  necessary  or  wise  to  be  so  much  alone  with  Miss 
Dawlish  ? " 

"Am  I  really  with  her  too  much  ?  "  asked  Ferrers. 

"Well,  on  your  own  confession  of  this  morning," 
said  Sir  William,  "her  exclusive  company  is  danger- 
ous ;  and  there  is  such  a  thing  as  leading  one's  self 
into  temptation." 

"I  suppose  there  is,"  said  Ferrers.  "I'll  try  to 
avoid  it." 

"Don't  avoid  her  too  much,"  said  the  other,  "  and 
don't  seek  her  out  too  pointedly  :  try  to  find  a  happy 
mean." 

"  I'll  try,"  said  Ferrers. 

And  then  silence  fell  between  them,  and  Ferrers 
seemed  interested  only  in  noting  the  doors  and  the 
turnings  on  the  way  to  the  Picture  Gallery.  It  was 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  129 

a  long  low  room,  with  dark  oak  floor,  and  with  a 
low-browed,  curtained  door  at  either  end.  It  was 
lighted  in  orthodox  fashion  by  slanting  windows  in 
the  roof,  which  were  shaded  by  blinds  that  had 
doubtless  once  been  white,  but  that  were  now  stained 
and  dingy.  The  pictures  were  mostly  faded  por- 
traits, with  devices  in  arms  and  armour  between,  and 
Ferrers  regarded  them  with  indifference  as  Sir  William 
led  him  round  and  pointed  out  this  and  that  person 
and  expatiated  on  their  private  and  public  history. 
They  had  not  been  long  thus  occupied  when  the 
door  opened,  and  in  came  Dolly  with  Mrs.  Drew. 

"Mrs.  Drew,"  said  Dolly,  addressing  Ferrers, 
"heard  you  were  here,  and  she  thought  she  would 
like  to  go  round  the  Gallery  with  you.  She  expects 
you,  since  you  are  an  artist,  to  show  her  which  are 
the  best  pictures." 

"I  don't  know  much  about  portrait-painting, 
though,"  said  he,  "  nor  care  much." 

"That  doesn't  matter,"  said  Dolly,  and  straight- 
way began  to  act  as  cicerone  herself.  "I  want  to 
show  you,  Mrs.  Drew,  one  particular  portrait,  that  I 
admire  very  much — this  one  down  here.  She  led 
the  stout  and  smiling  Mrs.  Drew  down  the  room  by 
the  hand,  and  drew  her  up  in  front  of  the  portrait  of 


!j0  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

a  cavalier  of  King  Charles's  days.  "Isn't  it  beauti- 
ful ? "  she  demanded. 

"Very,"  said  Mrs.  Drew,  marching  nearer  for  a 
close  perusal.  "The  lace  about  the  neck  and  wrists 
is  wonderful ! " 

"  Oh,  that's  not  what  I  mean,"  said  Dolly.  "And 
to  get  the  effect  you  must  keep  farther  back. " 

"A  curious  and  valuable  frame,  too,  I  should 
think,"  said  Mrs.  Drew,  as  she  was  withdrawn  to  a 
proper  position. 

"Look  at  it  from  here,"  said  Dolly:  "the  face, 
the  expression,  and  the  attitude.  Whom  do  they 
remind  you  of? " 

"Law  !  Bless  me  !  Yes  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Drew, 
considering  face,  expression,  and  attitude  through  her 
glasses.  "  Who  is  it?" 

"Don't  you  see  ? "  said  Dolly  with  a  touch  of  im- 
patience. Then  in  a  lower  tone:  "One  of  us 
here." 

"You  don't  mean  yourself,  my  dear?5'  timidly 
queried  Mrs.  Drew.  "  But  I'm  not  good  at  guessing 
riddles. " 

Dolly  gave  Mrs.  Drew  up,  and  at  once  surrendered 
her  secret.  "Cousin  Dawlish,"  said  she. 

"To  be  sure  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Drew  aloud.     "It 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  131 

is  indeed  remarkably  like  Mr.  Dawlish. — Don't  you 
think  so,  Sir  William  ?  " 

"Er — yes,"  said  Sir  William,  considering  the  por- 
trait again.  "I  have  observed  it.  There  is  a  con- 
siderable likeness,  especially  in  that  cavalier  way  of 
wearing  the  moustache." 

"And  the  lofty  look,"  said  Mrs.  Drew. 

"The  nose  in  the  portrait,  though,"  pursued  Sir 
William,  "is  higher  and  finer." 

' '  I  wonder  if  there  really  is  a  likeness  ? "  said  Fer- 
rers, scarce  knowing  what  to  say  in  his  embarrass- 
ment, or  where  to  look  in  his  bewilderment. 

"He  was  a  great  soldier,"  said  Dolly;  while  Sir 
William  turned  to  look  at  her.  He  manifestly 
thought  there  might  be  something  to  beware  of  in 
Dolly. 

" It  is  very  strange,"  said  Ferrers  to  himself.  "  If 
Dolly  really.and  truly  knows  that  I  am  not  'Cousin 
Dawlish/  how  can  she  keep  up  the  pretence  that  I 
am  so  easily  and  naturally  ?  And  especially,  why 
does  she  keep  it  up  with  me  ?  " 

Yes ;  why  did  she  not  let  him  know  that  she  un- 
derstood the  position  ?  Was  it  because  she,  like  him- 
self, had  her  feelings  so  far  engaged  that  she  shrank 
from  precipitating  an  explanation  which  might  end 


132-          A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

their  intercourse  entirely,  or  at  least  strip  it  of  its  curi- 
ous charm  of  half-disguise  ?  He  hugged  that  possi- 
bility warm  to  his  heart;  but  yet— yet— while  he 
feared  an  explanation,  he  felt  it  must  come,  and  he 
must  urge  it,  urge  it  at  the  first  opportunity. 

As  they  left  the  Gallery,  Dolly  reminded  Ferrers  of 
his  promise  to  teach  her  something  of  the  art  of  paint- 
ing, and  Sir  William  jocularly  proposed  that  they 
should  all  go  sketching  with  pencils,  crayons,  paints, 
or  what  not  ("Make  quite  a  sketching  match  of  it," 
said  he),  and  in  the  evening  put  the  sketches  to  the 
vote  of  the  company  as  to  which  was  best  of  any 
given  scene.  When  they  left  the  Gallery  he  carried 
his  proposal  round.  It  was  well  received  ;  for  there 
was  little  to  occupy  the  guests — there  was  no  shoot- 
ing or  fishing,  and  it  was  too  hot  to  ride — and  this  was 
thought  a  fresh  and  amusing  pastime.  While  the 
members  of  the  party  were  seeking  out  sketching 
materials,  most  being  content  with  pencils  and  sheets 
of  paper,  a  large  waggonette  was  being  got  ready  to 
carry  them  to  a  favourite  sketching-ground. 

"  Isn't  this  abominable  ?  "  said  Dolly  aside  to  Fen 
rers  when  they  met  with  their  serious  and  workman-! 
like  canvases  and  paint-boxes. 

"  It  is,"  said  Ferrers. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  133 

Lord  Debrett,  who  had  a  soldier's  rude  eye  for  a 
practical  joke,  appeared  furnished  with  a  smooth 
piece  of  board  and  a  large  carpenter's  pencil.  "I 
think,"  said  he,  "this  is  about  my  size ;"  and  even 
Dolly  was  compelled  to  laugh. 

So  they  set  out,  carrying  luncheon  with  them  ;  and 
all — Dolly  included,  in  spite  of  her  preliminary  dis- 
gust— had  a  merry  day  till  the  sun  began  to  decline, 
and  they  returned  to  Dawlish  Place  in  ample  time  to 
dress  for  an  early  dinner. 

In  similar  wise  did  the  next  day  pass — with  a  pic- 
nicking expedition  in  the  morning  and  lawn-tennis 
in  the  early  evening — and  the  next.  On  the  day 
thereafter  Drew  had  to  pay  a  flying  visit  to  London  ; 
the  bank,  he  declared,  could  not  continue  its  opera- 
tions wanting  both  its  managers  for  a  whole  week  ; 
but  he  was  scarcely  missed,  and  Sir  William  still 
exerted  himself  to  manoeuvre  the  party  and  its  amuse- 
ments and  occupations.  Ferrers  let  himself  be  moved 
this  way  and  that  with  the  others :  but  he  felt  some- 
how that  Sir  William's  management  was  at  work 
to  keep  him  apart  from  Dolly,  and  he  thought  he 
understood  the  reason. 

"This  is  Thursday,"  said  she  on  that  day,  aside  to 
him,  "  and  we  all  go  back  on  Saturday." 


1 34  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ferrers.  "  I  hope  we  shall  be  alone 
this  afternoon  :  I  must  have  a  word  with  you — please." 

But  that  hope,  too,  was  frustrated  :  Drumly  insisted 
on  carrying  him  off  to  see  a  new  reaping-machine  at 
work  some  miles  off.  In  the  drawing-room,  after 
dinner,  there  was  as  little  opportunity  of  private  con- 
ference between  him  and  Dolly  as  ever,  and  she  after 
a  while  in  despair  departed  to  her  room.  Then,  as 
was  usual  at  that  time  of  night,  the  men  went  to  the 
billiard-room,  and  Ferrers  went  among  them.  It  was 
duller  even  there  than  usual,  for  Debrett  had  gone  to 
town.  So,  as  on  the  first  night,  he  soon  left  the 
billiard-room,  being  sad  and  restless,  and  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  marched  off  with  the  intention 
of  going  to  bed.  But  in  the  corridor  he  remembered 
his  first  night's  adventure,  and  he  thought,  "  Why  not 
go  to  the  Picture  Gallery  on  the  off-chance  of  meeting 
Dolly  ? "  He  set  off  down  the  corridor ;  but  he  was 
turned  back,  as  on  the  first  night,  by  the  vision  of  a 
candle  borne  aloft  by  a  woman,  and  that  woman 
Aunt  Dawlish  1  As  on  the  first  night,  he  retreated 
before  her,  and,  as  then,  withdrew  into  the  dark  room 
close  at  hand,  with  the  thought  of  going  right  out,  as 
before,  into  the  garden.  When  he  got  behind  the 
curtain,  however,  he  found  that  the  shutters  of  the 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  135 

window  were  closed  !     He  was  fairly  trapped  now  ! 
He  must  wait  till  Aunt  Dawlish  chose  to  release  him  ! 

But,  on  peeping  through  the  curtain,  he  became 
interested  in  Aunt  Dawlish's  behaviour.  She  had  left 
the  door  open,  and  had  seated  herself  at  the  table 
with  her  candle  and  without  a  book.  She  sat  with 
her  hands  in  her  lap,  and  she  frequently  sighed  and 
shook  her  head.  What  grief  oppressed  her,  he  won- 
dered, while  he  almost  feared  to  breathe  and  longed 
to  cough.  The  minutes  passed  in  slow  silence,  and 
still  she  sat  waiting,  with  her  eyes  on  the  open  door. 
Perhaps  a  quarter  of  an  hour  had  passed — though  to 
Ferrers  it  appeared  at  least  an  hour — when  a  step 
sounded  in  the  corridor,  and  Miss  Dawlish  sat  up. 
The  step  sounded  nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  length 
Sir  William's  figure  was  seen  in  the  doorway. 

"What,  in  Heaven's  name !"  he  said,  "are  you 
sitting  there  for,  Louisa  ? " 

"I  want  to  talk  to  you,  William,"  she  answered, 
unclasping  her  hands.  "Come  in  and  sit  down." 

Sir  William  came  in  and  shut  the  door,  but  he  did 
not  sit  down. 

"This  dreadful,  risky  business  you're  engaged  on, 
William,"  said  Aunt  Dawlish — "is  there  no  other 
way  ? " 


I  36  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"Can  you  suggest  another  way?" 

"No,  William,  I  can't  "  said  she. 

"Then  you'd  better  let  my  way  have  its  chance;" 
and  he  turned  to  go.  "  Especially, "  he  added,  ' '  since 
it  is  almost  come  to  its  end." 

"But,  William,  just  listen.  I  cannot,  cannot  see  how 
this  man's  appearing  in  Will's  place  is  going  to  help 
your  purpose.  How  is  it  going  to  end?" 

"  You  are  very  dull  and  frightened,  Louisa,"  said 
Sir  William,  sitting  down.  "I  have  never  denied 
there  are  risks  about  it ;  but  what  are  they  to  the  risks 
on  the  other  side  ?  This  is  the  26th  ;  and  if  I  cannot 
pay  off  the  mortgage,  or  give  good  guarantee  of  pay- 
ment by-and-by,  Boughton  will  foreclose  on  the3ist." 

"So  soon  as  that  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"So  soon  as  that,"  saidhe.  "And  Dawlish  Place 
and  Dawlish  estate  will  be  lost ;  and  I  shall  be  ruined 
so  completely  that  I  shall  not  even  be  able  to  pay  you 
your  allowance,  Louisa  !  " 

"Oh,  dear  me !  Is  it  so  bad  as  that  ? "  And  Aunt 
Dawlish  wrung  her  hands. 

"I  cannot  pay  off  the  mortgage,  as  you  know  ;  and 
the  only  chance  I  see  of  a  good  guarantee  is  that  this 
marriage  between  Will  and  Dolly  shall  be  agreed  upon 
at  once,  and  proper  settlements  drawn  up." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN,  137 

(Ferrers  in  his  retirement  felt  a  swift  pang  of  loss 
and  resentment ) 

"I  know  that,  William." 

"And  you  know,  too,  Louisa,"  continued  Sir  Wil- 
liam, growing  fiercer  and  louder  as  he  proceeded, 
"that  those  two  old  fools,  Dolly's  trustees,  would 
never  agree  to  her  marriage  with  Will  as  they  knew 
him  some  years  ago,  or  even  as  he  is  now." 

"'Even  as  he  is  now!'  Just  so,  William.  And 
do  you  mean  to  keep  up  this  young  man's  im- 
posture till  Will  is  well  enough  to  take  his  own 
place  ? " 

(Ferrers  winced  at  the  word  "  imposture.") 

"No,  I  don't;  though  the  doctors  say  Will  should 
be  well  enough  to  appear  all  right  within  a  month. 
I  mean  to  keep  this  man  only  till  the  marriage  is 
agreed  upon  between  me  and  these  confounded 
trustees,  and  till  a  settlement  is  drawn  up.  And  that 
must  come  off  to-morrow,  or  on  Saturday  :  that's 
what  Drew  has  gone  to  town  about  to-day.  You 
see  how  the  old  fools — especially  that  baboon 
Drumly — are  infatuated  about  the  big,  healthy  brute, 
and  they'll  agree  quite  promptly.  The  blind  old 
idiots  !  As  if  a  Dawlish  ever  looked,  or  ever  could 
look,  like  that ! " 


138  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN; 

"The  young  man  is  very  handsome  and  clever, 
William,"  said  Miss  Dawlish. 

"Ah,"  snapped  Sir  William  (and  Ferrers  imagined 
the  grin  on  his  face),  "you're  like  the  rest  of  the 
women  !  A  good-looking  face  and  a  big  strong 
body — and  you  fall  down  and  worship  the  man." 

"Just  so,  William, "  retorted  his  sister.  "That's 
the  danger." 

"What's  the  danger?" 

"You  seem  not  to  have  considered  what  Dolly 
might  think  in  all  this.  I'm  afraid  that  Dolly  is 
seriously  smitten  with  the  man." 

"Oh,  pooh  !  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  Dolly  is  taken 
with  him  because  she  believes  him  her  cousin. 
But  she  has  the  pride  of  the  Dawlishes  about  her. 
Once  she  knows  that  he  is  only  a  rough  common 
trooper,  rubbed  up  a  little  with  knowing  people 
better  than  himself,  she'll  be  disgusted  with  herself 
for  having  thought  anything  of  him." 

"I  wish  she  may.  But  she's  a  romantic  girl,  and 
to  know  he's  a  poor  man  may  only  make  her  more 
interested  in  him.  I  wish  you  understood  women 
better,  William." 

"I  wish  I  did,"  said  Sir  William.  "But  Dolly 
—you're  mistaken  in  Dolly.  She's  a  sensible  girl  / 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  139 

she  has  her  father's  business  faculty,  and  she 
knows  what's  due  to  her.  Besides,  she  has  our 
interest  at  heart,  and  she's  attracted  to  this  man,  as 
I  have  said,  because  she  thinks  him  her  cousin,  and 
she  was  fond  of  her  cousin  when  they  were  together 
as  boy  and  girl." 

"And  I  kept  her  fond  of  him,  William,  by  talking 
always  about  him.  That's  why  I'm  afraid  now  of 
this  man's  influence." 

"That'll  be  all  right,  Louisa.  I'll  tell  her  the 
whole  thing,  when  the  business  has  been  settled 
with  these  trustees.  I'll  appeal  to  her  proper  feel- 
ings to  save  the  house  and  our  name.  She'll  meet 
Will  again  when  he  is  quite  himself,  and  we'll  get 
the  marriage  over  before  she  has  time  to  think,  and 
without  these  cursed  trustees  seeing  Will  at  all, 
except  perhaps  on  the  wedding  morning  in  a  dark 
church. " 

"I  wish  it  may  turn  out  as  easily  as  you  say," 
sighed  Miss  Dawlish. 

"Well,  now  let's  go  to  bed,"  said  Sir  William. 

So  Miss  Dawlish  rose  with  her  candle  and  went 
out,  and  Sir  William  followed  her. 


140  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 


CHAPTER  XL 
"GANG  AFT  AGLEY." 

FERRERS  came  from  his  hiding-place  as  soon  as  their 
footsteps  had  died  away,  and  without  quite  knowing 
how  he  did  it,  felt  his  way  out  of  the  room,  along  the 
corridor  to  the  foot  of  the  chief  staircase,  and  so  to  his 
bedroom.  He  scarcely  knew  himself  in  his  turmoil 
of  feeling.  He  felt  humiliated  more  than  he  could 
have  conceived,  choked  with  resentment  and  rage 
against  Sir  William,  and  withal  disposed  to  allow 
that  he  endured  no  more  than  he  deserved.  His 
treatment  at  Dawlish  Place  had  fed  his  pride  and  am- 
bition— such  pride  and  such  ambition  as  dwell  in 
every  healthy  mind — and  had  deceived  him  into 
thinking  that  after  all  he  might  be  a  person  of  conse- 
quence ;  now  the  terms  in  which  Sir  William  spoke 
of  him  showed  him  what  he  really  was  :  a  common, 
stupid  hireling  ! — a  catspaw  for  the  needy  and  nefa- 
rious baronet !  Moreover,  the  baronet  had  simply 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN:  141 

and  cruelly  lied  to  him,  and  he  had  been  fool 
enough  to  accept  his  lies  as  confidence  given  in  hon- 
our by  one  man  to  another ! — fool  and  blind  enough 
to  believe  that  Dolly,  the  frank  and  unsuspecting, 
was  in  her  uncle's  plot  to  secure  the  hold  of  her  prop- 
erty from  her  trustees  !  But,  he  thought  obstinately 
— the  fighting  spirit  was  rising  in  him — Sir  William 
Dawlish  was  not  yet  rid  of  him.  What  were  the  as- 
sured facts  with  which  he  now  must  deal  ?  First, 
there  was  a  real  William  Dawlish  to  whom  it  was  in- 
tended that  Dolly  should  be  married  to  save  the  bar- 
onet's family  from  ruin  ;  second,  the  marriage  could 
not  be  compassed  openly,  because,  for  certain  rea- 
sons— reasons  of  health,  apparently — it  was  feared 
that  Dolly's  guardians  or  trustees  would  not  accept 
the  real  William  Dawlish  as  her  husband ;  and  third, 
it  was  hoped  that,  in  the  last  event,  the  marriage 
would  be  effected,  and  the  whole  mean  scheme 
crowned  with  victory  by  an  appeal  to  Dolly's  sense  of 
the  family  honour.  Against  these  things  was  set  the 
single  possibility  that  Dolly's  love  for  him,  though 
it  had  been  given  as  to  William  Dawlish,  might  have 
grown  to  such  strength  that  she  could  not  withdraw 
it  when  she  knew  him  to  be  George  Ferrers.  To 
punish  and  defeat  Sir  William  he  was  ready  to  put 


I42  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

that  possibility  to  the  test.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand, 
his  own  admiration  and  love  for  Dolly  were  too  high 
and  pure  and  unselfish  to  permit  him  to  use  the  ad- 
vantage which  he  had  acquired  by  a  trick — by  a 
trick,  too,  not  of  his  own  devising.  Would  he  not 
feel  himself  a  common,  mean  cur  if  he  went  to  Dolly, 
and  said  in  effect:  "You  thought  me  your  cousin 
and  a  gentleman,  a  man  of  your  own  rank  and 
station,  and  you  gave  me  the  love  which  you  would 
never  have  thought  of  bestowing  on  a  common  pen- 
niless soldier,  however  handsome  and  honest  he 
might  be  ;  but  I  have  won  that  love,  and  I  claim  it "  ? 

No,  no  ;  he  could  not  say  that.  He  did  not  believe 
that  Dolly  would  have  loved  him  if  she  had  only 
known  him  as  George  Ferrers — he  had  not  so  great 
a  conceit  of  himself ;  and,  that  being  so,  he  Would 
not  take  advantage  of  his  own  deceit  and  of  her 
weakness.  Besides,  who  was  he  to  interfere  in  the 
private  concerns  of  the  Dawlish  family  ?  He  had 
engaged  for  a  sum  of  money  to  perform  a  certain 
part,  and  he  ought  to  be  content  if,  when  the  business 
was  done,  he  received  that  sum.  How  he  hated 
himself  for  not  having  put  an  end  to  the  business 
when  first  he  suspected  its  quality. 

But  he  put  these  thoughts  away ;  whistled  softly 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  143 

to  himself  as  he  finished  undressing ;  blew  his  candle 
out ;  and  got  into  bed.  And  soon  he  slept  the  sleep 
of  the  seasoned  soldier.  He  could  not  have  slept 
long — though  how  long  or  how  short  a  time  he  could 
not  guess — when  he  suddenly  woke  with  a  rude  sense 
of  choking.  He  put  up  his  hand,  and  caught  a  lean 
and  nervous  thumb  and  fingers  from  his  throat ! 
Then  he  opened  his  eyes,  looked  up,  and  saw  by  the 
vague  light  filtered  through  his  window-blind  a  figure 
in  white  stooping  over  him.  He  was  at  first  inclined 
to  suppose  himself  suffering  from  nightmare ;  but 
the  next  moment  he  understood  that  was  impossible, 
for  his  hand  grasped  a  substantial  wrist.  He  neither 
struggled  nor  cried  out ;  and  the  creature  clawed 
with  its  free  hand  at  his  hair. 

"Come,  stop  that  !  "  said  Ferrers. 

But  the  creature  continued  with  frantic  energy, 
tearing  at  him  with  the  one  hand  and  trying  to  free 
the  other.  Ferrers  was  a  dalesman  and  a  wrestler, 
and  with  a  rapid  and  adroit  movement  he  had  the 
creature's  arms  pinned  at  its  sides  while  he  held  its 
body  as  in  a  vice  between  his  knees. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "tell  me  who  you  are  and  what 
the  deuce  you  want  here  !  " 

But  the  creature  only  struggled  and  panted. 


144  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"Tell  me,"  repeated  Ferrers,  shaking  him,  "  or  I'll 
squeeze  the  life  out  of  you  !  " 

"I'm  William  Da wlish,"  said  the  creature,  "and 
I've  more  right  here  than  you. " 

"  Oh,"  said  Ferrers,  "  you're  William  Dawlish  !  I 
must  here  have  a  look  at  you."  The  devil-may-care 
spirit  of  the  old  soldier  was  roused.  "Now,"  said 
he,  "you  see  you  can't  do  anything  with  me.  Will 
you  sit  quietly  in  a  chair,  or  must  I  tie  you  ?  " 

"I'll  sit,"  said  Mr.  Dawlish. 

"On  your  word  of  honour ?  " 

"On  my  word  of  honour." 

Ferrers  then  let  him  go,  jumped  from  bed,  and  lit 
the  candle  by  his  bedside.  He  set  a  chair  for  his 
strange  visitor,  while  himself  put  some  clothing  on, 
and  sat  on  the  bed.  He  looked  with  great  curiosity 
at  the  person  he  was  supposed  to  be — at  his  other 
self,  who  drew  his  night-shirt  about  him  and  sat 
down  in  the  proffered  chair.  He  was  about  as  tall 
as  himself ;  he  was  indeed  something  like  what  him- 
self might  have  been,  had  he  started  with  a  feeble 
constitution  and  been  grown  in  a  poor  soil.  He  had 
hair  like  that  of  Ferrers,  but  finer  and  thinner,  with 
a  longer  nose,  a  weaker  mouth,  and  a  far  less  gener- 
ous moustache.  But  the  most  notable  difference 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  145 

was  in  the  meagreness  of  the  body — Ferrers  recalled 
the  phrase  of  one  of  the  ' '  Johnnies  " — "  like  a  monkey 
up  a  stick  " — which  had  the  shoulders  of  a  bottle  and 
the  chest  of  a  pigeon.  There  was  something,  too,  of 
a  wild  and  bloodshot  look  in  the  eye,  which  made 
Ferrers  suspect  he  was  not  quite  sane.  Having  thus 
considered  him  a  moment  or  two,  Ferrers  pitied 
him. 

"Now,  Mr.  Dawlish,"  said  he,  "do  you  mind  tell- 
ing me  why  you  have  visited  me  in  the  middle  of  the 
night  in  this  polite  and — and  friendly  way?" 

Mr.  Dawlish's  only  answer  for  a  moment  or  two 
was  a  wild  and  irrepressible  burst  of  laughter,  which 
sounded  half  hysterical.  He  swayed  to  and  fro  and 
laughed  ;  he  leaned  his  face  in  his  hands  and  laughed ; 
and  then  he  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair  exhausted 
with  tears  of  laughter  streaming  from  his  eyes.  He 
had  no  sooner  looked  at  Ferrers'  composed  and  some- 
what wondering  face  than  his  laughter  burst  forth 
again. 

"Ah-h!     Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha!" 

"Look  here!"  said  Ferrers  sharply.  "You'll 
wake  all  the  house."  He  looked  him  steadily  in 
the  eyes,  and  that  seemed  to  have  a  controlling  and 

composing  effect  upon  him. 

10 


146  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"Oh,  I  say!"  cried  Mr.  Dawlish.  "You  are  a 
caution  1"  'Visit  me  in  a  polite  and  friendly  way,' 
says  you!"  And  he  laughed  again.  "You're  a 
strong  beggar,  though.  I  wish  I  was  as  strong  as 
you.  I'm  not  bad  for  strength,  you  know,  and  fig- 
ure ;  but  I'm  not  so  good  as  you.  Look ;  my  calfs 
not  half  bad.  They  used  to  say  it  was  the  nicest- 
shaped  leg  they  knew." 

"  Who  used  to  say  that?  "  asked  Ferrers. 

"Oh,  some  friends  of  mine. — I've  a  good  biceps, 
too,"  continued  Mr.  Dawlish,  undoing  his  sleeve  and 
baring  his  arm. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Ferrers;   "it's  pretty  fair." 

"I  say,"  observed  Mr.  Dawlish,  as  if  he  had 
suddenly  remembered  something  of  consequence, 
"you've  just  come  from  town — haven't  you? — with 
the  other  people.  "  Ferrers  nodded.  "What's  doing 
at  the  theatre  ?  What  girls  are  at  the  Gaiety  now  ? 
Anything  much  ? " 

"Oh,"  said  Ferrers,  becoming  rather  weary  of  the 
young  man,  "  they're  all  right,  I  believe." 

"Tootsie's  gone,  of  course.  Did  you  know 
Tootsie  ? " 

"No,  I  didn't.— But  look  here,  Mr.  Dawlish,"  said 
Ferrers,  "you  didn't  come  into  my  room  in  the  dark 


A  S  OLDIE K  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  147 

and  take  me  by  the  throat  merely  to  have  an  agree- 
able chat  ? " 

"I  say,"  laughed  Mr.  Dawlish  again,  "you  are  a 
caution.  I  like  you,  you  know.  I  apologise — I  do 
— for  being  ungentlemanly  to  you  at  first ;  for  I  know 
you're  a  gentleman.  He  told  me  different." 

"Who  told  you  different?"  asked  Ferrers. 

"Oh,  never  mind  who  told  me.  But  I  thought, 
you  know  " — and  he  glanced  round  and  lowered  his 
voice,  as  if  he  feared  there  might  be  another  within 
earshot — "  that  I  had  hold  of  one  of  those  old  banker 
chaps  that  keep  my  governor  so  short  that  he  can't 
give  me  any  money.  I  haven't  had  a  spree  for  I 
don't  know  the  time  !  " 

"That's  bad,"  said  Ferrers.  "And  are  you  kept 
stuck  down  here  all  the  while  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  I've  been  staying  with  Dr.  Blobbs.  I'm 
better  now ;  but  I've  been  awfully  seedy.  They 
say  I've  had  something  wrong  with  my  head,  and, 

you  know "  He  leaned  forward  and  whispered 

another  sentence  in  Ferrers'  ear. 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  "  said  Ferrers,  looking  at  him 
with  half-averted  eyes.  ' '  Well,  I  advise  you  to  get 
back  to  bed  as  quick  as  you  can. " 

"  Hush  !  "  said  he.     "  I've  given  my  man  the  slip. 


148  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

He  mustn't  know,  or  there'll  be  a  frightful  shindy. 
I'll  get  back  all  right."  He  rose  and  held  out  his 
hand. 

"I'll  see  you  safe  to  your  room,"  said  Ferrers. 
"You  know  the  way,  I  suppose?" 

"Of  course  I  know  the  way.  What  do  you  take 
me  for?" 

They  left  Ferrers'  room,  and  traversed  a  long  pas- 
sage, which  turned  this  way  and  that.  They  then 
passed  through  a  door  into  a  long  ample  room  lighted 
from  the  roof,  which  Ferrers  recognised  as  the  Pic- 
ture Gallery. 

"All  my  forefathers  and  foremothers  hanging  round 
here, "  said  Mr.  Dawlish. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ferrers  ;   "I  know." 

"Sometimes,"  said  Mr.  Dawlish,  "I  come  in  and 
look  at  them,  and  cock  snooks  at  them.  A  lot  of 
auctioneer's  rubbish  !  When  I  come  into  them,  I'll 
sell  'em  off,  like  what's-his-name  in  the  play." 

"That  would  be  fun,"  said  Ferrers. 

So  they  passed  on,  and  out  through  the  little  door 
at  the  other  end,  and  up  a  narrow  staircase. 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Mr.  Dawlish,  and  stole  into  a  low 
room  whose  door  was  ajar,  and  in  which  a  night- 
light  was  burning.  "My  man's  asleep,"  whispered 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  149 

he,  and  pointed  to  a  narrow  truckle-bed  in  the  corner. 
"  He  had  a  drink  with  a  chum." 

He  said  "good-night,"  and  passed  into  the  room 
beyond,  and  Ferrers  turned  at  once  to  the  sleeper  in 
the  corner  and  shook  his  shoulder.  In  stooping  over 
the  man,  his  eye  caught  sight  of  a  slippered  foot,  a 
man's  foot,  peeping  from  under  the  bed.  He  knelt 
and  seized  the  foot,  and  with  a  powerful  tug  drew 
out  the  body  to  which  it  was  attached,  while  the 
sleeping  man  started  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes.  The 
man  drawn  from  under  the  bed  started  to  his  feet 
with  an  oath,  and  revealed  himself  as  the  black- 
muzzled  Irish-American  ?  Ferrers  at  once  suspected 
that  he  was  the  "chum"  with  whom  Mr.  Dawlish's 
keeper  had  had  a  drink,  and  who  probably  had 
urged  the  young  man  to  prowl  into  the  stranger's 
bedroom. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  demanded  Ferrers, 
in  a  quick  low  voice  (the  whole  scene  passed  in  tones 
little  above  a  whisper). 

"Sure,"  said  the  man  on  the  bed,  "he's  a  friend 
av  moine." 

"And  between  you,"  said  Ferrers,  "  you  have  let 
your  patient  out.  He  has  been  wandering  about  the 
house  and  into  guests'  rooms." 


150  A  SOLDIER  AND  A   GENTLEMAN. 

"  The  divvle  he  has  !  "  exclaimed  the  man,  and 
jumped  from  bed.  "  Where  is  he  ?  " 

But  Mr.  Dawlish  himself  had  appeared  by  that 
time,  looking  in  mortal  fear  of  his  Irish  keeper. 
"Come  now,  Murphy,  hold  on!"  he  cried.  "It 
was  your  friend  that  took  me  out  and  showed  me 
into  this  gentleman's  room.  He  told  me  he  was  one 
of  the  bankers. " 

"What  have  you  got  to  say  to  that?"  asked 
Ferrers,  turning  again  to  the  scowling  Irish-Ameri- 
can. 

"  Nothing,"  said  the  man  ;  "  and  it'll  be  the  worse 
for  you  if  you  say  anything." 

"What  is  that?"  said  Ferrers,  taking  him  by  the 
car. 

"Come,"  said  the  man,  trying  to  strike  down  his 
hand;  "none  of  your  games  with  me.  I  know  all 
about  you,  and  there's  more  will  know  about  you 
before  I've  done.  So  take  care. " 

That  he  should  hold  high  debate  with  himself  about 
making  all  the  truth  known,  and  that  at  the  same  time 
this  mean,  spying  cur  should  with  a  word  or  two  be 
able  to  betray  him,  enraged  Ferrers. 

"Very  well,  my  friend,"  said  he,  pulling  the  man's 
car — while  Mr.  Dawlish  stood  aloof,  rubbed  his 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  151 

hands,  and  exclaimed,  "Here's  a  spree!" — "you 
know  me.  I've  punished  you  for  rudeness  before, 
and  I'll  punish  you  for  impertinence  whenever  I 
know  of  it.  If  ever  I  hear  you  speak  of  me,  or  hear 
that  you  have  spoken  of  me,  to  any  one,  I'll  find  you 
out  and  give  you  such  a  thrashing  and  such  a  duck- 
ing as  you  never  had  before.  You  understand?" 

He  gave  the  ear  he  held  an  admonitory  pinch, 
which  provoked  the  man  to  strike  out  with  hands 
and  feet.  Upon  that,  with  little  ado  he  took  the 
man  by  the  hands  and  feet,  gathering  them  in  one 
great  grasp  as  if  he  had  been  a  bound  sheep, 
shook  him,  and  said,  "Be  quiet!"  Then,  seeing 
the  door  of  a  clothes-closet  stand  open,  he  flung 
him  in,  turned  the  key,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket, 
while  the  artless  Mr.  Dawlish  exclaimed,  "  By 
Gum  !  Ain't  you  a  strong  beggar  !  " 

"Don't  lave  him  there,  sorr,  if  you  plaise  !"  said 
the  attendant  Murphy.  "  He  deserves  it  all ;  but 
it  ud  ruin  me  wid  Sir  William  if  he  knowed  he'd 
been  here  !  " 

"All  right,"  said  Ferrers,  handing  him  the  key, 
and  thinking  that  after  all  none  of  these  things 
mattered  very  much  now  ;  "let  him  out  by-and-by, 
and  tell  Sir  William  what  you  like." 


I52  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"  I'll  tell  Sir  William  nothing,  sorr,  wid  your 
lave,"  said  Murphy,  while  Mr.  Dawlish  ejaculated, 
"What  a  lark!" 

So  Ferrers  returned  down  the  little  twisting  stair- 
case into  the  Picture  Gallery,  in  passing  through 
which  there  broke  on  his  ear  from  the  room  he  had 
left  "a  horrid  idiotic  laugh,"  and  he  understood  the 
cause  of  Dolly's  fright  on  the  night  she  waited  for 
him.  It  struck  him  as  a  coincidence  to  note  as 
curious  that  while  Dolly  had  been  expecting  the  pre- 
tended William  Dawlish,  the  real  should  have  un- 
wittingly made  his  voice  heard  by  her.  Poor,  dear 
Dolly!  What  was  now  to  happen  to  her?  Was 
she  to  be  permitted  to  move  on  blindly,  deceived  or 
persuaded  by  her  uncle,  into  marriage  with  that 
unwholesome  and  imbecile  cousin  ?  A  thousand 
times  "  No  !  "  The  very  thought  of  it  was  revolting 
and  maddening,  and  Ferrers  at  once  and  for  all 
resolved  to  purge  his  soul  of  offence  in  the  matter. 

When  he  got  back  to  his  room,  he  sat  a  while  on 
the  edge  of  the  bed,  stared  at  his  candle,  and  rubbed 
his  cold  shirt  sleeves.  He  thought  of  all  that  had 
passed  in  the  very  short  space  of  time  since  he  had 
made  Sir  William  Dawlish's  acquaintance.  Into 
what  a  vortex  of  deceit  had  he  been  caught  1  And 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  153 

yet,  to  begin  with,  yea,  throughout,  he  had  meant 
no  harm.  Tempted  by  money,  which  at  the  time 
had  meant  to  him  food  and  lodging,  he  had  thought- 
lessly embarked  on  this  adventure,  which  was  now 
threatening  to  engulf  himself  and  his  prospects,  and 
to  make  shipwreck  of  the  happiness  of  the  best  and 
dearest  girl  in  the  world — the  only  woman  whom  he 
had  ever  completely  and  unreservedly  admired  and 
worshipped,  who  had  ever  made  him  feel  what  the 
romance  of  love  might  mean.  For  himself,  such  a 
fate  scarcely  mattered  ;  he  was  a  penniless  soldier, 
a  man  of  no  account ;  but  as  to  her  ! — not  a  hair  of 
her  dear  head  should  be  ruffled  if  he  could  help  it ! 
And  yet  his  punishment  was  that  things  could  not 
possibly  be  set  right  without  ruffling  and  perhaps 
paining  her.  BuV  he  would  not  spare  himself;  he 
would  urge  no  extenuating  plea  in  setting  the  truth 
before  her  on  the  morrow.  She  might  despise  him, 
hate  him  ! — it  might  indeed  be  better  that  she  should 
— but  in  any  case  the  rude,  ugly  truth  must  be  laid 
bare  ! 

Having  thus  finally  determined  to  make  an  end, 
he  was  in  a  strangely  quiet  condition  of  feeling, 
which  rather  surprised  him  :  he  could  not  remember 
ever  having  felt  anything  like  it  except  on  the  eve 


j54  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

of  a  battle.  And  in  that  feeling  he  undressed, 
blew  out  his  candle,  and  got  into  bed.  But  in  the 
dark  he  was  wider  awake  than  before,  and  went 
over  and  over  the  ground  he  had  already  traversed, 
with  intervals  of  sleep  and  of  dream,  until  the  day- 
light began  to  show  on  his  window,  and  the  birds 
awoke  to  chatter  and  chirp,  and  to  chaffer  and 
haggle  over  straws  and  worms. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  155 


CHAPTER  XIL 

THEY  TWO. 

FERRERS  was  out  of  bed  very  early  ;  for  he  had  slept 
little  and  had  little  mind  for  sleep.  He  drew  up 
his  blind,  opened  his  window,  and  looked  out  over 
the  lovely  sunlit  landscape.  Its  beauty  went  to  his 
heart,  but  only  to  darken  by  contrast  his  secret 
wretchedness.  But  his  way  was  clear,  and  he  would 
take  it  without  turning  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the 
left.  Meantime,  he  resolved  to  dress  and  go  out 

It  struck  five  by  the  clock  in  the  stable  tower  as 
he  left  the  house  and  walked  away  through  the 
grounds.  He  did  not  linger  in  the  garden,  but  struck 
across  the  park,  where  the  cattle  raised  their  heads 
from  their  early  grazing  to  stare  at  him.  He  dis- 
covered soon  that  he  was  not  the  only  early  riser. 
As  he  climbed  over  a  hillock  in  his  course  he  noticed 
some  little  way  off  two  men  disappear  into  a  clump 
of  holly -trees  and  brushwood,  at  the  end  of  the  larch 


156  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

plantation.  Something  in  the  set  and  gait  of  one  of 
the  figures  made  him  think  of  his  midnight  visitor. 
He  did  not  particularly  wish  to  meet  and  converse 
with  him  again  ;  but  he  was  curious  to  see  what  he 
was  out  for.  The  clump  into  which  Dawlish  and 
his  companion — probably  his  "  man  " — had  vanished 
was  continued  in  the  plantation  across  Ferrers'  line 
of  route,  and  to  its  nearest  point  Ferrers  made  at  a 
sharp  pace. 

When  he  reached  it  he  saw  a  little  way  off  a  hollow 
glade — some  what  like  a  spoon  at  the  end  of  its  handle 
— and  in  the  glade  the  two  men  with  their  coats  off 
and  with  their  shirt  sleeves  rolled  up.  With  interest 
quickened  into  alarm  he  slipped  nearer,  and  saw 
that  the  men  were  preparing  to  box  with  gloves,  and 
was  satisfied.  He  lingered,  however,  to  witness  a 
round  or  two,  and  to  hear  the  one  (young  Dawlish) 
say,  "That's  enough  fora  morning  breather,"  and 
the  other  reply,  "  No,  no,  sorr  ;  that  isn't  enough. 
Up  wid  your  mauleys  ;  "  and  then  he  withdrew,  and 
returned  towards  the  house. 

He  was  within  the  enclosure  of  the  garden  proper 
when  he  saw  another  early  riser  still,  who  made  him 
hesitate,  and  feel  as  if  he  would  like  to  hide  or  run 
away.  It  was  Dolly  in  a  morning  robe  of  white, 
and  with  a  red  parasol  to  shade  her  from  the  sun. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  157 

The  burden  of  the  confession  he  had  to  make  was  as 
lead  in  his  heart  and  on  his  feet ;  but  he  was  drawn 
on  in  spite  of  himself,  for  he  knew  she  had  seen  him, 
and  when  her  bright  look  was  bent  on  him,  to  her 
he  must  always  turn.  He  did  not  know  what  he 
meant  to  do  or  to  say ;  he  only  felt  that  he  must  pre- 
sent himself  to  her,  lay  himself  and  his  deceits  bare 
to  her,  and  let  her  judge  him. 

He  was  approaching  her,  and  she  was  waiting  for 
him  with  a  smile,  when  down  one  of  the  gravel  walks 
trotted  Aunt  Dawlish  in  a  great  straw  hat.  "Dolly 
dear,"  she  called,  "you  must  be  getting  your  feet 
wet  on  the  dewy  grass. " 

"  I'm  not,  aunt,"  said  Dolly.  "  What  a  fidget  you 
are  !  But,  to  please  you,  I'll  stand  on  the  gravel." 

"You'd  better  come  in,  my  dear,"  said  Aunt  Dawl- 
ish, now  close  to  her ;  it's  much  too  early  for  you 
to  be  out.  You'll  quite  soil  your  complexion  with 
these  absurd  country  ideas.  Besides,"  she  continued, 
taking  her  arm  and  whispering  in  her  ear 

Whatever  it  was  that  Aunt  Dawlish  said  in  her 
ear,  it  made  her  blush  divinely. 

"Adieu,  cousin,"  said  she,  "for  the  present ;  "  and 
she  departed  into  the  house. 

He  hung  about  the  garden  till  he  was  weary  ;  he 


158  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

saw  Drew  come  out — this  day  with  Drumly — after  an 
early  breakfast,  and  depart  again  in  a  waggonette  to 
take  the  train  to  town ;  he  kept  out  of  the  way,  for 
he  did  not  wish  to  talk  with  the  bankers  then,  and 
by-and-by  he  heard  the  breakfast-bell  ring,  and  went 
in.  He  was  unavoidably  somewhat  cold  and  distant 
in  his  "  Good  morning"  to  Sir  William  ;  nor  was  he 
very  good  company  at  table.  Now  and  again  he 
found  Dolly's  eyes  wistfully  fixed  on  him,  and  his 
heart  was  wrung  with  grief  and  dismay  at  what  was 
about  to  happen.  Yet  he  was  resolved  to  take  the 
first  opportunity  to  bring  things  to  an  issue. 

It  did  not  seem  as  ii  there  would  be  much  difficulty 
in  arranging  a  private  interview  between  himself  and 
Dolly  ;  for  there  was  no  excursion,  Debrett  being  gone 
for  the  day,  and  Drew  and  Drumly  on  a  visit  to  town 
— on  the  business  of  the  projected  marriage  doubt- 
less. Yet  it  was  long  before  he  could  encounter  her 
alone,  Aunt  Dawlish  kept  such  dragon-guard  over 
her.  At  length  in  desperation  he  resolved  to  do  as 
she  had  once  done  herself  when  she  desired  an  inter- 
view. 

"I  want,"  he  wrote  on  a  slip  of  paper,  "  to  talk 
with  you  alone  very  particularly.  The  Picture  Gal- 
lery won't  do.  Meet  me  in  an  hour  in  the  hoiliow  in 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  159 

the  larch  plantation."  He  rolled  the  paper  up  into  a 
tiny  cylinder,  and  watching  his  opportunity  as  he 
sauntered  by,  he  dropped  it  into  Dolly's  lap  as  she 
sat  reading  on  a  shady  bench  in  the  company  of  Aunt 
Dawlish  and  Mrs.  Drew.  That  done,  he  moved  away, 
and  by  a  roundabout  route  made  for  the  plantation. 
At  the  end  of  about  hah  an  hour  he  was  in  the  hollow 
glade  where  he  had  seen  young  Dawlish  and  his 
"  man  '"'  sparring  in  the  early  morning.  He  had  quite 
half  an  hour  t'o  wait,  and,  to  consume  the  time  and 
allay  his  restlessness  and  the  foolish  flutters  that  in- 
vaded even  his  great  chest,  he  set  himself  to  cut  and 
shape  a  holly-stick. 

At  last  he  heard  the  rustle  of  a  footstep,  and  his 
neart  leaped  within  him,  less — alas  ! — with  joy,  than 
with  grief  and  pain.  She  came — his  own,  his  sweet ! 
— to  whom  he  could  never  tell  how  sweet  and  dear 
she  was.  He  went  with  slow  steps  to  meet  her,  try- 
ing the  strength  of  his  stick  as  he  went,  trying  it  so 
that  he  snapped  it.  But  it  did  not  break  clean  ;  it 
was  green  and  tough,  and  the  lacerated  fibres  still 
held  together. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  thought,  "  if  that  is  how  this  part- 
ing is  going  to  be  !  " 

When  they  met,  she  looked  open-eyed  and  dis- 


j6o  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

turbed.  "  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  see 
there  is  something.  There  seems  to  be  something 
the  matter  with  every  one  to-day.  I  saw  a  strange 
man  cross  the  end  of  the  garden  this  morning.  I 
told  Aunt  Dawlish,  and  said  what  he  was  like,  and 
she  looked  fit  to  drop  with  fright,  and  begged  me  not 
to  speak  about  it.  The  curious  thing  is  that  I  feel  as 
if  I  ought  to  know  him. " 

"What  was  he  like?"  asked  Ferrers  with  a  sure 
expectation  of  the  answer. 

"  He  was  as  tall  as  you,  but  narrow  all  about  here" 
— indicating  her  own  chest — "and  pinched,  as  if  he 
had  grown  up  in  a  tight  place  :  and  he  looked  at  me, 
and  smiled,  and  bowed  like  an  idiot,  till  a  man  that 
was  with  him  took  him  by  the  arm,  and  led  him 
away.  I  wish  I  could  think  who  he  is. " 

"Miss  Dawlish,"  said  Ferrers,  nerving  himself  to 
open  the  great  exposure,  "that  is  the  very  thing  I 
asked  you  here  to  tell  you  about.  That  man  you 
saw  is  your  cousin,  William  Dawlish  :  I  am  not." 

She  gazed  at  him  a  moment  with  wide-open, 
startled  eyes.  Then  she  shrank  back  a  step,  and  put 
up  her  hands  to  her  face,  as  if  she  would  hide  herself. 
Her  feeling  was  clear.  She  was  ashamed  through 
all  her  nature  that  she  had  been  frank,  and  even  bold 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  161 

—  as  the  world  counts  boldness — with  a  man  who 
proved  to  be  an  utter  stranger  ! 

' '  Oh  1  "  she  cried.      ' '  What  dreadful  thing  is  this  ?  " 

"lam  afraid,"  said  Ferrers,  "I  have  done  you 
great  wrong  ;  but  you  may  be  sure  I  never  meant  it " 

"  Who  are  you,  then  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  My  name,"  said  he,  "  is  George  Ferrers." 

' '  But  what  are  you  ?  " 

"I  am  nothing,"  said  he,  with  proud  resolve  to 
strip  himself  bare  of  quality.  "I  have  been  a  sol- 
dier." 

"And  you  are  an  artist,  I  suppose,"  said  she,  with 
who  knows  what  quick,  instinctive  desire  to  see  him 
retain  some  quality  or  function  with  which  she  had 
believed  him  invested. 

"I  am  something  of  an  artist,"  said  he. 

"  And  is  that  why  there  are  the  initials  '  G.  F.'  on 
your  pictures  ?  " 

"Yes;  that's  why." 

' '  But  why — oh,  why — have  you  come  about  me 
and  told  lies,  and  pretended  you  were  my  cousin  ? 
You  had  some  reason  for  doing  it,  I  suppose  ?  Why 
have  you  behaved  to  me  as  you  have,  and  made  me 
behave  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  told  lies,"  Ferrers  had  a  mind  to  say ; 
ii 


1 62  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

but  he  perceived  that  would  be  but  paltering  with 
words,  since  he  could  not  deny  he  had  been  acting 
lies  to  her. 

"I  was  introduced  to  your  uncle,  Sir  William," 
said  he,  "  and  he  asked  me  to  take  the  name  of  Wil- 
liam Dawlish. " 

"My  uncle  knows  of  this,  then  ?  "  she  asked. 

' '  Yes, "  said  he.  "I  would  have  told  you  before — 
the  day  after  we  came  here  —  but  he  said  you 
knew." 

"  He  said  I  knew  ?     And  you  believed  him  ? " 

"I  was  fool  enough  to  take  his  word  as  a  gentle- 
man, and  I  didn't  know  what  to  think." 

"And  my  aunt? — does  she  know,  too?  " 

"Yes;  she  does,  too." 

' '  Oh  !  Dreadful  !  And  what  has  it  been  done  for  ? 
Surely,  not  for  a  joke  ?  " 

"  I  began  it,"  said  Ferrers,  "  as  a  joke  ;  but  I  have 
found  that  it  is  very  serious  ;  and  that  is  why — partly 
why — I  have  determined  to  tell  you  the  truth  as  I 
have  discovered  it.  Your  uncle  wants  you  to  marry 
his  son,  your  cousin,  and  he  was  afraid  your  trustees 
would  not  agree  to  the  marriage,  if  they  knew  and 
saw  his  son." 

"Why?" 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  163 

"Because  he  is  not  man  enough  to  marry,"  said 
Ferrers  desperately;  "  because  he  is  weak  in  body 
and  in  mind — because  he  is  an  imbecile." 

"And  my  uncle  asked  you,"  said  she  with  scorn, 
"  to  appear  as  the  necessary  person,  because  you 
are  not  an  imbecile  ?  He  put  you  forward  in  the 
part,  and  you  played  it.  You  came  and  smiled  and 
danced  with  me,  and  talked  confidential  lies  to  me 
in  the  most  cousinly  way  !  I  must  congratulate  you 
on  the  finish  you  gave  to  your  part.  Perhaps  you 
had  played  it  often  before  ? " 

"Never! — never!"  said  Ferrers,  with  the  air  of  a 
patient,  strongman  protesting  against  the  wantonness 
of  blows  showered  on  him. 

"And  how  were  you  to  be  rewarded,  may  I  ask, 
for  the  playing  of  your  part  ? — your  part  of  stalking- 
horse  to  my  uncle's  son  ? " 

"I  was  to  receive  a  sum  of  money,"  answered 
Ferrers. 

"Money?"  she  exclaimed.  "You  engaged  to 
smile  and  dance  with  me,  and  to  talk  to  me,  and 
walk  with  me,  and  sketch  with  me  for  money  ?  Oh, 
how  miserable,  how  mean,  how  shameful !  " 

"  Hear  me,"  pleaded  Ferrers.  "  You  don't  under- 
stand. When  I  met  Sir  William,  and  he  proposed 


1 64  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

this  to  me,  I  was  very  poor — I  had  scarcely  any 
money  at  all — scarcely  any.  You  might  not  believe 
me  if  I  told  you  how  little.  I  was  glad  to  get  the 
chance  of  occupation  and  money,  and  I  promised  to 
do  what  was  asked  of  me,  without  knowing  or  guess- 
ing what  I  would  be  asked  to  do.  If  1  had  imagined 
I  was  going  to  bring  trouble  or  grief  to  you,  I  would 
have  died  rather !  " 

"And  why  do  you  think  you  have  brought  trouble 
and  grief,  as  you  say,  to  me  ?  I  have  no  doubt  that 
to-morrow  or  the  next  day  I  shall  look  back  on  it  as 
a  very  curious  and  original  joke." 

He  said  no  word,  though  his  heart  was  bursting ; 
but  he  could  not  refrain  from  turning  on  her  eyes  as 
simply  appealing  as  those  of  a  dumb  animal. 

"Oh,  man,  man!"  she  cried,  "have  you  not  a 
word  to  say  for  yourself? — not  a  word  ?  "  She  put 
her  hands  to  her  face,  and  sank  on  the  ground  in  a 
fit  of  weeping,  while  Ferrers,  longing  to  go  to  her 
aid  and  yet  not  daring,  stood  with  clenched  hands 
and  heaving  chest. 

"No  ;  I've  not  a  word  !  "  he  murmured  blindly  to 
himself.  "Not  a  word  shall  I  say  ! — not  a  word  ! 
It  serves  me  right  I  It  serves  me  right !  " 

"And  why,"  she  asked,  after  a  pause,  "have  you 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  165 

kept  this  so  long  ? — or,  rather,  having  kept  it  so  long, 
why  have  you  not  kept  it  longer  ?  " 

"Because,"  said  he,  "as  I  have  told  you,  Sir  Wil- 
liam deceived  me,  and  because  I  have  just  discovered 
the  truth.  I  knew  last  night  for  the  first  time  that 
there  really  is  a  cousin  whom  you  are  intended  to 
marry ;  and  last  night  I  saw  him — saw  that  he  is 
a  creature  no  woman,  least  of  all  you,  ought  to 
marry. " 

"And  why  not?  It  is  surely  not  for  you  to  say 
whom  I  am,  or  am  not,  to  marry  !  " 

"No,"  said  Ferrers ;  " it  is  not  for  me  to  say ;  but 
I  hope  you  will  not  marry  him.  It  would  be  better 
for  you  to  be  dead  than  married  to  him  !  " 

' '  You  are  a  very  presuming  person  to  say  that  to 
me  !  A  complete  stranger  to  express  such  an  opinion 
of  my  own  cousin  ! — one  of  my  own  family  !  I 
remember  my  cousin  very  well ;  and  I  liked  h;m. 
He  may  not  be  so  big  and  strong  a  creature  as  you 
are,  but  I'm  glad,  yes,  glad  he  is  not  And  if  my 
uncle  wishes  it,  and  he  wishes  it,  I  shall  marry  him, 
whatever  any  one  may  say. " 

"Call  me  what  names  you  like ;  I  deserve  the  un- 
kindest  and  cruellest  things  you  can  say  to  me  ;  but 
do  not  let  yourself  be  deceived  and  hurried  into  a 


T66  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

marriage  with  that  man  !  And  you  may  be  deceived 
and  hurried  before  you  are  aware." 

"I  am  quite  able  to  take  care  of  myself;  I  am 
mistress  of  my  own  actions ;  and  I  beg  you  will  not 
give  me  any  more  of  your  advice." 

"  If  you  will  not  save  yourself  by  my  advice,  then 
I  must  save  you  in  spite  of  yourself.  I  do  not  wish 
to  interfere  any  more  in  your  family  matters,  and 
make  a  fuss  ;  but  if  you  persist  in  going  through 
with  this  mad  business,  I  must !  " 

"Go  away  !  I  will  not  hear  you  any  more.  I 
will  not  talk  to  you  any  more.  Go  away  !  And  I 
hope  I  shall  never  see  your  face  again.  Go 
away !  " 

He  stood  a  moment  with  hands  outspread,  with 
bursting  heart  and  swaying  form.  Then,  "Yes," 
he  murmured — "yes  ;  I'll  go  away — I'll  go  away  !  " 
So  he  turned  and  walked  out  of  the  hollow,  while  she 
watched  him,  with  her  hands  tight  clasped  upon  her 
panting  bosom.  But  he  did  not  look  back ;  did  not 
show  a  hint  of  hesitation  to  obey  her  command  to  go 
away,  and  let  his  face  be  seen  no  more.  He  walked 
on,  steadily  on,  down  the  narrow  vista  of  larches, 
and  disappeared. 

He  felt  beaten  sore  by  the  hands  that  he  loved,  all 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  167 

the  sorer  that  those  hands  seemed  pitiless.  All  his 
world  was  tumbled  about  his  ears — life  and  love, 
hopes  and  fears,  desires  and  ambitions — and  he 
stumbled  blindly  on  out  of  the  cool  shade  of  the  wood 
into  the  blazing  sunlight  of  the  park.  Why  had  she 
been  so  hard  with  him — so  terribly  hard  ?  Yet  he 
loved  her  ! — loved  her  all  the  more  distractingly  for  the 
pain  she  had  given  him  !  And  how  she  had  smitten 
and  scourged  him  with  her  words  !  She  had  shown 
a  strength  of  feeling,  an  intensity  of  passion  of  which 
he  had  not  thought  her  possessed.  It  was  all  over 
now — all  over  between  them  !  (she  had  begged  that 
she  might  not  see  his  face  again !),  but  still  he  ad- 
mired her  all  the  more  for  that  last  meeting.  There 
was,  however,  a  wild  sense  of  rage  and  revolt  gather- 
ing in  his  heart,  which  found  no  vent,  and  which 
was  the  more  dangerous  and  reckless  because  of  the 
shielding  tenderness  with  which  he  must  still  regard 
Dolly. 

Crossing  the  park,  he  spied  Sir  William,  and  at 
once  his  feeling  of  rebellion  and  rage  rose  to  find  its 
issue.  He  turned  out  of  his  course  and  strode 
towards  him.  Sir  William  waited  for  him. 

",Well?"he  cried  genially  from  a  little  way  off. 
But  when  he  saw  Ferrers'  pale,  set  face,  he  was  on 


1 68  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

his  guard.  "Halloa!"  he  said  "Is  something 
gone  wrong  ? " 

"  Everything's  gone  wrong  !  "  said  Ferrers.  "  But 
I  shall  not  waste  words  on  you.  You  have  used  me 
for  your  own  mean  purposes,  and  I  hate  you.  You 
have  lied  to  me,  as  one  man  should  not  lie  to 
another  without  suffering  for  it  in  his  carcase.  I  do 
not  want  to  hear  another  word  from  your  mouth  ;  I 
have  heard  too  many.  I  overheard  all  your  talk 
last  night  with  your  sister ;  I  had  a  pleasant  visit 
from  your  son  in  the  night ;  and  now  I  just  come 
from  telling  your  niece  all  I  know." 

"The  devil  !  "  exclaimed  Sir  William. 

"Yes,"  said  Ferrers  ;  "I  wish  I  could  be  as  strong 
and  merciless  as  the  devil  with  you  !  " 

"Ha!"  sneered  Sir  William.  "Now,  I  suppose, 
that  your  business  is  done  in  your  own  way  you 
want  your  money." 

"I  want  none  of  your  dirty  money,"  said  Ferrers, 
laying  a  firm  grip  on  the  baronet's  shoulder — a  grip 
which  he  wriggled  to  be  rid  of,  but  which  held  him 
effectually,  "nor  any  more  of  your  insolence.  You'd 
better  go  and  attend  to  your  niece  up  there ;  and 
mark  this  :  if  with  your  deceit  or  persuasion,  or  any- 
how, you  get  her  married  to  that  idiot  son  of  yours. 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  169 

I'll  wring  your  wicked,  lying  old  neck.  You  under- 
stand ? "  And  he  gripped  the  shoulder  painfully  ; 
but  Sir  William  did  not  wince,  nor  put  off  his  careless 
manner. 

"That  would  be  murder,"  said  he,  with  one  of  his 
old  grins. 

"It  may  be,"  said  Ferrers,  "for  all  I  care;  and  it 
will  be,  if  you  neglect  what  I  have  said."  So  saying, 
he  let  Sir  William  go,  and  strode  on  towards  the 
house. 


170 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

WHAT  CAME  OF  THE  SIGNING  OF  THE  SETTLEMENTS. 


mad,  of  course,"  thought  Sir  William,  as  he 
stood  and  looked  after  Ferrers.  "But  men  don't 
do  these  things.  He  can't  think  of  staying  in  the 
house  an  hour  after  this.  I've  seen  the  last  of  him, 
then  ;  and  now  I've  only  got  to  manage  Dolly. 
Perhaps  it  is  as  well  that  he  is  gone."  So  he  struck 
across  the  park  to  wards  the  plantation  to  find  Dolly. 
He  had  just  entered  the  shade  of  the  trees  when  he 
saw  her  walking  towards  him.  He  hurried  to  meet 
her. 

"My  dear  Dolly,"  said  he,  "what  has  this  man 
been  upsetting  you  with  ?  " 

"  Upsetting  me,  uncle?"  said  Dolly,  looking  cer- 
tainly composed,  if  not  apathetic.  "I'm  not  upset 
But  you  say,  '  this  man.  '  You  admit,  then,  that  he 
is  not  my  cousin  ?  " 

"Your  cousin?    No;  except  in  so  far  as  all  the 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  171 

descendants  of  Adam  and  Eve  are  cousins.  That 
was  but  a  practical  joke  for  a  certain  purpose,  which 
I  want  now  to  explain  to  you,  my  dear. — Come," 
said  he,  "and  let  us  walk  up  and  down  in  this  cool 
place,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it"  Retried  to  take 
her  hand  to  put  in  his  arm  ;  but  she  withdrew  it,  and 
stood  looking  at  him. 

"  Why, "  she  asked,  "did  you  wish  to  play  your 
practical  joke  on  me?" 

"On  you,  my  child?"  exclaimed  Sir  William  in 
some  astonishment  "I've  not  played  it  on  you; 
I've  played  it — or  have  meant  to  play  it — on  your 
trustees,  on  Drew  and  Drumly." 

"How  can  you  say  that,"  she  demanded,  "when 
you  set  him  to  behave  to  me  as  if  he  were  my  cousin, 
and  got  me  to  treat  him  as  if  he  were  ?  It  was  unkind 
and  shameful  of  you,  uncle — shameful !  " 

Sir  William  bit  his  nail,  and  considered  his  niece 
with  a  worried  and  critical  look.  "  Was  it,  my  dear  ? " 
said  he.  "I  am  very  sorry — very,  indeed.  But  you 
must  know  that,  if  that  has  been  the  result,  it  has 
been  entirely  owing  to  a  miscalculation  :  you  must 
know  I  never  could  mean  any  indignity  or — or  shame 
to  you,  my  child.  Sheer  miscalculation,  believe  me. 
And  I'm  not  surprised  that  I  should  miscalculate, 


l-jt  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

when  I  had  so  much  to  think  of.  The  matter  is  indeed 
more  serious  and  even  desperate  than  I  have  led  you 
to  suppose."  He  turned  aside,  as  if  to  wipe  a  tear 
from  his  eye,  and  out  of  the  corner  noted  with  glad- 
ness that  the  girl's  generous  heart  was  moved  to 
something  of  compunction,  if  not  of  pity. 

"What  is  serious  and  desperate ? "  she  asked. 

"  You  are  ji  good  girl,  and  a  clever  girl,  Dolly," 
said  he.  "Let  us  walk  gently  along  here,  and  I'll 
tell  you  in  a  few  words  the  whole  business.  I  have 
always  meant  to  set  it  before  you  ;  but  the  necessity 
for  doing  it  has  come  rather  sooner  than  I  expected. 
You  know  your  father,  my  brother,  was  always  proud 
of  the  family  name,  and  of  this  old  family  place. — 
You  are  not  listening,  Dolly. " 

"Yes,  uncle,"  said  Dolly,  bringing  back  her  eyes 
from  a  distant  gaze,  ' '  I  am. " 

"Well,"  continued  Sir  William,  "  one  of  his  reasons 
for  going  into  the  banking  business  was,  at  first,  to 
make  money  to  help  to  set  the  house  up  again  ;  for 
we  have  long  been  poor.  But  after  a  while  we  quar- 
relled, he  and  I ;  perhaps  it  was  my  fault ;  I  daresay 
it  was.  I  was  in  debt  here,  and  he  wouldn't  help  me 
with  his  money. " 

"Wouldn't  help  you   with    money?"   exclaimed 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  173 

Dolly.  "That  seems  very  unlike  my  father:  he 
always  gave  me  more  than  I  wanted." 

"Ah,  that  was  different,  my  dear.  He  gave  me 
none ;  and  the  consequence  was  that  I  had  to  mort- 
gage the  estate  for  a  certain  sum  (mortgage,  my  dear, 
means  that  the  right  to  possess  the  estate  has  been 
given  over  in  pledge  or  security  for  the  sum  of  money 
I  borrowed  ;  so  that  if  at  a  certain  time  the  money 
is  not  paid  back,  the  person  that  lent  the  money 
comes  and  takes  the  house  and  estate),  and  that  has 
gone  on  till  the  estate  is  mortgaged  '  up  to  the  hilt,' 
as  people  say,  and  if  I  cannot  pay  it  off  by  the  Jist, 
house  and  estate  and  all  are  lost" 

"And  other  people  will  own  this  place — this  wood, 
and  the  park,  and  the  farms — and  come  to  live  in  the 
dear  old  house  ?  Oh,  how  dreadful !  And  father 
knew  that  that  might  happen  ? " 

"Er — no,"  said  Sir  William;  "I  never  told  him 
of  the  mortgages. " 

"But  you'll  pay  the  people,  won't  you,  and  not 
let  the  place  go  ? " 

' '  I  can't,  my  dear — I  can't !  And  that's  why  I  am 
telling  you  all  this.  Your  father  would  not  help  me 
with  money ;  but  he  was  still  proud  of  the  family 
name,  and  wished  to  keep  it  up.  Now,  I  had  only 


174  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

a  son,  and  he  had  only  a  daughter — your  own 
self;  and  his  plan  was  that  you  and  my  boy 
should  marry :  you  would  bring  the  money  and 
he  the  estate ;  and  so  the  family  would  be  set  up 
again. " 

"Yes,  uncle,  I  know  all  that,"  said  Dolly. 

"And  you  were  brought  up  to  look  forward  to  that. 
— Are  you  listening,  my  child  ?  " 

"Yes,  uncle.  But  I  don't  see  what  that  has  to  do 
with  your  curious  joke  of  introducing  to  me  as  my 
cousin  a  man  who  is  not  my  cousin." 

"I'm  coming  to  that,  my  dear.  Your  father  had 
one  reservation — an  important  one — about  your  mar- 
riage. He  believed  that  marriage  between  cousins 
is  unfortunate  unless  they  are  quite  healthy  people  : 
because  of  their  relationship,  you  understand,  my 
child.  Now,  he  got  it  into  his  head  that  my  boy, 
your  cousin  Will,  was  not  so  heartily  strong  as  he 
would  like  him  to  be,  though  he  thought  he  might  be  all 
right  as  he  got  older.  So  before  he  died,  he  instructed 
your  guardians,  Drew  and  Drumly,  not  to  sanction  the 
marriage  unless  they  were  satisfied  of  the  good  health 
of  your  cousin.  For  a  long  while,  as  you  know, 
your  cousin  has  been  away  to  grow  strong  ;  but  he 
is  not  yet  all  that  he  ought  to  be." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  175 

' '  I  know, "  Dolly  astonished  her  uncle  by  declaring. 
"  I  saw  him  this  morning." 

"You  saw  him  this  morning?" 

"  I  did  not  know  at  the  time  that  it  was  he  ;  but  I 
know  now.  I  only  saw  him  at  a  distance." 

"Well — as  you  probably  saw,  my  dear,"  said  Sir 
William — "he  is  very  nearly  as  well  as  anybody 
need  be,  though  I  should  not  like  to  show  him  to 
your  guardians  for  a  month  or  more.  Now  you 
understand  why,  in  my  desperation,  I  let  the  man 
Ferrers  introduce  himself  to  them  as  William  Dawl- 
ish." 

"No,"  said  Dolly  ;  "  I  don't  understand." 

"Look  here,  my  dear,''  said  Sir  William.  I'm  in 
this  desperate  and  deplorable  fix :  the  estate,  the 
house,  and  everything  must  go,  on  the  3ist,  if  the 
mortgage  be  not  paid  ;  my  only  chance  of  paying  it 
off  is  by  your  marriage  with  your  cousin  being — not 
celebrated  but  sanctioned  ;  and  that  sanction  your 
cousin  is  not  ready  to  win  from  your  guardians.  I 
find,  then,  a  man  who  is  like  enough  to  your  cousin 
to  pass  for  him  among  people  who  have  not  seen  him 
for  years,  and  who  is  strong  and  healthy  enough  to 
win  the  sanction  by  merely  showing  himself." 

"Still,    I    don't    understand,"     persisted     Dolly. 


176  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN, 

"  How  does  the  sanction  give  you  money  to  pay  the 
mortgage  ? " 

"Surely  you  know,  my  dear,"  said  Sir  William, 
"that  as  soon  as  your  guardians  sign  the  sanction  of 
your  marriage,  you  have  command  of  all  your 
father's  money  to  do  what  you  like  with ;  while  you 
are  recommended  to  apply  a  certain  part  of  it  to  buy 
back  the  parts  of  the  Dawlish  estate  that  long  ago 
were  lost." 

' '  /  shall  have  command  of  all  my  father's  money  ?  " 
exclaimed  Dolly. 

"You,  my  dear,  and  you  alone.  And, "continued 
Sir  William,  "I  know  that  you  are  as  fond  of  the 
Dawlish  estate,  and  as  proud  of  the  Dawlish  name, 
as  your  father  was,  or  as  I  am." 

"Is  the  Dawlish  name,"  asked  Dolly  simply, 
"something  to  be  very  proud  of?" 

"  Surely,  my  child.  And  you  would  not  let  it,  or 
the  Dawlish  estate,  be  lost,  would  you  ? " 

"I  should  not  like  to  see  other  people — strangers 
— living  here. " 

"Well,  then,  my  child :  it  all  depends  on  you. 
Your  guardians  are  bringing  down  the  papers  this 
afternoon,  and  will  sign  the  sanction,  and  hand  over 
to  you  the  control  of  the  money. " 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  177 

"  That  means,  uncle,"  said  Dolly,  stopping  and 
looking  in  Sir  William's  face,  "that  you  have  ar- 
ranged that  my  marriage  with  my  cousin  shall  be 
settled  this  afternoon  ;  and  that  then,  as  soon  as  I 
have  in  that  way  got  the  right  to  my  father's  money. 
I  shall  pay  off  your  mortgage.  You  have  arranged 
all  that  without  asking  me." 

Sir  William  looked  uncomfortable  and  somewhat 
foolish  ;  decidedly  the  girl  had  more  business  faculty 
than  he  had  imagined. 

"I  did  not  wish  to  trouble  you  about  it.  Besides, 
my  plan  would  not  have  worked  smoothly  with  you 
before  your  guardians  if  you  had  known  it,  and  then 
I  thought  that  as  soon  as  you  knew  it,  and  the  des- 
perate necessity  for  it,  you  would  be  sure  to  fall  in 
with  my  arrangements." 

"That  was  rather  rash  of  you,  uncle,"  said  she, 
"to  suppose  that  I  should  have  agreed  with  you  that 
there  was  a  desperate  necessity  for  my  being  played 
with  and  put  to  shame  by  a  strange  man." 

Then  Sir  William  was  seriously  alarmed,  and  he 
endeavoured  somewhat  awkwardly  to  appease  her. 
"  'Put  to  shame,'  my  dear!  Surely  not,"  said  he. 
"  At  any  rate  there  can  be  no  more  of  it,  for  the  man 
has  had  his  reward,  and  is  gone." 

12 


178  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"Had  his  reward?"  exclaimed  Dolly,  flaming 
with  resentment.  "  Do  you  mean  the  money  you 
promised  him  ? " 

"Er— yes,"  said  Sir  William. 

"And  did  he  really  take  it  ?  "  demanded  Dolly  with 
flashing  eyes. 

"  He  did.  Why  not? "  said  the  baronet.  "  He  is 
only  a  common  low  fellow,  and " 

"He  is  not  a  low  fellow  !  "  exclaimed  Dolly,  turn- 
ing on  her  uncle.  "And  if  he  were,  it  does  not  say 
much  for  my  cousin,  since  you  set  the  one  to  repre- 
sent the  other." 

To  that  Sir  William  had  nothing  to  say.  Dolly 
walked  on,  and  he  kept  beside  her,  perplexed  beyond 
measure.  Did  she  or  did  she  not  care  at  all  for  the 
"low  fellow?"  In  either  case,  it  would  be  better 
he  should  avoid  the  subject.  For  him  the  great  mat- 
ter was  to  win  her  to  his  purpose,  and  he  saw  no  way 
of  doing  that  but  by  appealing  again  to  her  gener- 
osity, and  (perhaps)  to  her  regard  for  the  family 
honour. 

"Well,  Dolly,  my  child,"  said  he,  "you  see  I  am 
at  your  mercy — I,  the  house,  the  estate  and  all.  What 
are  you  going  to  do  with  us  ? " 

"Why,"  said  she,   "do  you  not  let  the  sanction 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  179 

alone  at  present,  and  tell  Mr.  Drew  or  Mr.  Drumly 
the  truth  about  your  mortgage,  and  ask  them  for  the 
money  ? " 

' '  Ask  them  for  the  money  ? "  Sir  William  laughed. 
"Do  you  imagine,  my  child,  that  I  have  not 
thought  of  all  these  things  ?  They  would  not  lend 
me,  much  less  give  me,  a  penny.  There  is,  believe 
me,  no  way  but  the  way  I  have  taken  ;  and  if  you 
do  not  join  me  in  it,  now  at  the  last,  then  I  am  ruined, 
and  the  Dawlish  name  and  the  Dawlish  estate  are 
both  lost ! " 

"If  I  had  the  money,  you  know  I  would  give  it 
you  at  once.  But  I  cannot — I  will  not — to-day 
promise  to  marry  any  one  !  I  will  not  be  hurried 
into  marriage,  or  into  a  promise  of  marriage.  I  have 
not  even  been  asked  yet !  " 

"That  is  not  Will's  fault,  poor  boy,"  said  Will's 
father.  "  He  is  pining  to  see  you  and  to  talk  to  you. 
And  then  there  is  no  attempt  or  desire  to  hurry  you, 
my  child  ;  the  marriage  need  not  come  off  for  a  long 
while ;  indeed,  if  you  find,  when  you  really  know 
each  other,  that  you  bitterly  object  to  it,  it  need  not 
come  off  at  all.  The  immediate  necessity  is  this 
sanction,  which  is  just  as  much  as  saying  in  a  for- 
mal way  that  you  may  marry.  God  knows,  it  is  not 


l8o  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN 

for  myself  I  humble  myself  and  appeal  to  you.  It 
will  be  no  benefit  to  me  to  get  the  mortgage  paid  off; 
I  am  a  pretty  old  man,  and  I  cannot  last  very  much 
longer " 

"Don't  say  that,  please,"  said  Dolly,  impulsively 
laying  her  hand  on  his  arm,  while  Sir  William  wiped 
an  imperceptible  tear  from  his  eye. 

"All  I  want  is  to  leave  the  Dawlish  name  and  the 
Dawlish  place  to  those  who  come  after  me — to  you, 
my  dear,  and  your  cousin,  I  hope." 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do,  then?"  she  asked, 
clasping  her  hands  in  resignation. 

"Only  this,  my  dear — only  this,"  said  Sir  William; 
"say  nothing  about  your  discovery  that  that  man  is 
not  your  cousin,  and  appear  when  I  call  for  you  to 
see  the  sanction  signed,  and  to  put  your  own  name 
to  a  paper  of  settlement  which  will  give  you  the  con- 
trol of  your  father's  money." 

"Very  well,"  said  she  in  cold  resignation. 

"My  dear,"  exclaimed  Sir  William,  grasping  her 
hand  in  thankfulness,  and  offering  to  kiss  her,  "you 
are  an  angel !  " 

"No,  I'm  not,"  said  Dolly.  "And  I'd  rather— 
please — not  be  kissed  now.  I'd  like  to  walk  up  and 
down  here  a  little  in  the  shade,  if  you  don't  mind 
leaving  me  alone." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A   GENTLEMAN.  181 

"Certainly,  my  girl,"  said  her  uncle;  "but  don't 
be  late  for  lunch." 

So  they  parted  ;  and  when  Sir  William  had  disap- 
peared, Dolly  went  back  to  the  little  hollow  and  sat 
down.  She  was  miserable  exceedingly,  and  her 
heart  burned  with  shame  and  resentment.  For  a 
brief  while  after  Ferrers  had  left  her  she  felt  that  she 
had  been  wantonly  hard  and  cruel  to  him  ;  but  now 
that  Sir  William  told  her  that  he  ha  d  taken  money — 
money  ! — for  the  unworthy,  the  shameful  part  he  had 
played,  she  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  him. 
How  utterly  mean  and  despicable  it  was  in  him  to  do 
that,  especially  after  all  he  had  said  to  her.  Probably 
he  was  now  on  his  way  back  to  London,  with  his 
pocket  full  of  gold,  laughing  to  himself  at  the  absurd 
girl  he  had  had  a  scene  with.  With  flaming  cheeks 
and  flashing  eyes,  she  smote  her  hands  together, 
stamped  her  foot  on  the  ground,  and  left  the  hollow 
and  the  plantation,  and  returned  to  the  house. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Ferrers  was  not  gone.  After 
his  violent  ebullition  of  temper  with  Sir  William,  he 
came  to  himself  a  little,  and  considered  that  on  the 
whole  it  was  foolish  to  utter  such  threats  as  he  had 
hurled  at  the  baronet  :  it  would  be  wiser  and  more  to 
the  purpose  to  devise  some  way  of  circumventing 


1 82  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

his  designs.  The  immediate  necessity  for  him  was 
to  prevent,  if  possible,  any  pact  of  marriage  between 
Dolly  and  the  lunatic  and  cretinous  William  Dawlish. 
Drew  and  Drumly  had  gone  to  town  on  some  such 
business,  he  believed,  and  some  time  that  day,  he 
suspected,  there  would  be  something  like  a  formal 
signing  of  contracts.  He  did  not  see  how  anything 
could  be  done  in  proper  form  without  the  presence  of 
one  William  Dawlish  or  another,  yet  he  thought  it 
well  to  wait  and  watch.  He  resolved,  therefore,  that 
he  would  not  go  away  until  he  knew  that  Sir  Wil- 
liam's trick  was  abortive,  or  until  he  had  seen  Drumly 
and  set  before  him  the  whole  matter. 

When  he  reached  the  house,  he  went  straight  to 
his  room  and  stayed  there.  From  his  window  he 
saw  Sir  William  return  from  the  plantation,  and  by- 
and-by  Dolly,  and  he  argued  that  it  looked  well  for 
his  own  purpose  that  they  came  separate,  and  not  as 
those  who  were  agreed.  He  did  not,  of  course,  go 
down  to  lunch ;  he  lay  on  his  bed  to  pass  the  time, 
thinking  of  all  that  had  come  and  gone  since  he  had 
entered  on  this  adventure.  He  had  no  sense  of  hun- 
ger, but  his  brain  was  on  fire,  and  he  was  consumed 
with  thirst.  He  drank  all  the  water  in  his  carafe, 
and  was  beginning  to  drink  from  his  ewer,  when  a 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  183 

tap  came  to  his  door.  He  said,  "Come  in  ;  "  when 
there  entered  the  man  Murphy,  whom  he  had  seen 
the  night  before  in  charge  of  Mr.  Dawlish.  He  bore 
in  his  hand  a  tall  tumbler  containing  a  foaming 
drink. 

"  Ye'll  excuse  me,  sorr,"  said  the  man;  "but  I 
knowed  ye  was  here,  and  ye  won't  mind  me,  for  I 
know  all  about  it,  and  this  is  a  sorra  black  house  to 
be  in.  Ye've  ate  no  victuals,  that  I  know,  and  the 
thirst  must  be  upon  ye,  and  this  is  just  the  thing  for 
ye.  Divvle  a  thing  is  there  in  it  but  a  dhrop  av  the 
craytur,  and  limmon  juice  and  sody-water.  It's  just 
what  they're  for  callin'  a  limmon  squash,  if  ye'll 
excuse  me." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Ferrers;  "I'm  very  much 
obliged." 

He  drank  it  greedily,  without  stopping  to  consider 
the  good  faith  of  the  Irishman. 

"I  mustn't  stop  wid  ye,"  said  the  man,  taking  the 
empty  tumbler  ;  "the  barranite  might  find  me  out, 
bad  luck  to 'im !  Ye'll  excuse  me,  sorr."  And  so 
saying  he  departed. 

Ferrers  was  refreshed  and  stimulated  by  the  drink, 
insomuch  that  he  walked  up  and  down  his  room  to 
allay  his  restless  desire  to  be  out  and  acting  ;  but 


1 84  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

presently  he  became  unconquerably  drowsy  ;  so  he 
lay  down  upon  his  bed  and  fell  asleep. 

How  long  he  slept  he  could  not  tell ;  but  when  he 
came  thickly  and  vaguely  to  himself,  and  looked 
about  him,  he  saw  by  the  long  shadows  that  the  after- 
noon must  be  far  advanced  towards  evening.  He 
sprang  from  bed,  and  accused  himself  of  dereliction 
of  duty.  Probably,  Drew  and  Drumly  had  arrived 
from  town,  and  perhaps  the  fatal  moment  for  Dolly 
had  already  passed  !  He  strode  to  the  door.  It  was 
locked  on  the  outside !  Then  he  guessed  that  it  was 
intended  he  should  be  kept  there,  and  that  probably 
for  that  end  the  drink  had  been  sent  to  him.  He  was 
infuriated.  He  rushed  to  the  window — it  was  but 
one  floor  removed  from  the  ground,  but  the  height 
was  considerable — he  clambered  out  without  hesita- 
tion, and,  clinging  first  to  the  window-frame  and 
then  to  the  window-sill  and  a  contiguous  limb  of  ivy, 
which  was  torn  from  its  embrace  of  the  wall  by  his 
weight,  he  swung  himself  down.  He  alighted  on  a 
flower-bed  and  fell  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  before  he 
could  recover  himself  two  pairs  of  stout  arms  were 
upon  him.  But  he  was  too  old  a  soldier  to  be  com- 
pletely caught  by  an  enemy  at  unawares.  Quick  as 
thought,  he  guessed  the  situation  :  the  papers  were 


A  SOLDIEK  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  185 

being  signed  somewhere  at  hand,  and  Sir  William  had 
tried  to  ensure  his  absence,  first,  by  the  prepared 
drink ;  second,  by  locking  him  into  his  room ;  and 
third,  by  telling  off  two  men  to  lay  hold  of  and  secure 
him  should  he  have  the  hardihood  to  escape  by  the 
window.  That  explanation  flashed  in  order  upon  him 
as  soon  as  he  felt  himself  laid  hold  of.  He  kept  him- 
self together  till  the  men,  thinking  they  had  him,  bore 
carelessly  off  their  grip,  when,  shooting  out  one  foot 
and  getting  the  other  well  planted,  he  swung  out  his 
arms  with  tremendous  force,  flung  his  assailants  off, 
and  sprang  erect  Then  he  turned  to  see  who  they 
were,  and  recognised  them  as  the  man  Murphy  and 
the  Irish-American.  If  they  were  on  the  watch  for 
him  there,  he  thought,  the  great  crisis  must  be  passing 
in  some  room  accessible  from  the  garden,  and  what 
room  could  that  be  but  the  library,  in  which  he  had 
already  had  two  adventures  ?  He  rushed  to  its  French 
window,  which,  he  observed,  stood  open.  He  was 
on  its  threshold  when  he  saw,  in  one  glimpse,  Drew 
and  Drumly  seated  at  the  table  with  papers,  Sir  Wil- 
liam leaning  over  opposite,  and  Dolly  stooping  in  act 
to  write. 

"  Stop ! "  he  shouted,  when  his  assailants  again 
flung  themselves  upon  him.   He  was  in  a  fury  of  rage. 


I  86  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

He  gripped  them  by  the  throat,  one  with  either  hanh, 
as  a  man  of  common  height  and  strength  might  grip 
two  Dutch  dolls,  banged  their  heads  twice  together, 
and  flung  them  away.  Then  he  strode  into  the  room, 
and  encountered  a  strange  look  of  mingled  shyness 
and  wonder  from  Dolly.  That  look  inexplicably 
thrilled  him  with  a  reckless  pride  in  his  strength,  so 
that  for  the  moment  he  felt  a  strong  desire  to  return 
into  the  garden  and  pound  the  two  men  together  till 
they  were  limp  and  worthless.  But  he  did  not 

"  What — what — what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ? "  said 
Mr.  Drew,  in  a  soothing  tone.  "  You've  been  upset, 
eh  ?  with  the  hot  sun  to-day.  Sir  William  told  us 
you  were  lying  down  to  get  rid  of  the  feeling." 

"Sir  William,"  said  Ferrers,  "  is  a  liar.  I  never 
had  a  touch  of  sun  in  my  life.  But  I  am  a  liar,  too ; 
I  have  been  acting  a  lie  1 " 

"Bless  me!  "  exclaimed  Drew,  pale  with  wonder, 
while  Drumly  sat  silent  and  grimly  sorrowful ;  and 
Sir  William  with  a  look  and  gesture  aside  endeavoured 
to  signify  that  no  notice  should  be  taken  of  these 
wild  words. 

"  I  am  quite  aware  of  the  meaning  of  what  I  say," 
continued  Ferrers,  "and  I  beg  you" — looking  at 
Drew  and  Drumly — "  to  listen  to  me.  You  are  sitting 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  187 

here,  I  believe,  to  arrange  or  to  settle  a  marriage 
between  Miss  Dawlish  and  William  Dawlish  :  that 
is  no  business  of  mine  except  in  so  far  as  I  have 
come  before  you  as  William  Dawlish.  My  name  is 
not  Dawlish,  and  I  am  no  relation  of  the  Dawlishes." 

"You  did  not,  then,"  said  Drumly,  "sign  this 
paper  a  few  minutes  ago  ? " 

He  showed  Ferrers  a  signature — "William  Dawl- 
ish " — at  the  end  of  a  sheet  of  writing. 

"  No,"  answered  Ferrers  ;   "  I  did  not  write  that" 

"What  is  your  name,  then  ?  "  asked  Drew. 

"George  Ferrers." 

"  Humph  !  'G.  F.,'  "  said  Drew.  — "Go  on,  sir." 

"I  have  little  more  to  say,"  continued  Ferrers. 
"At  Sir  William  Dawlish's  request,  I  introduced 
myself  to  you  as  William  Dawlish  ;  and  all  the  rest 
has  followed  from  that.  And,  though  the  marriage 
is  no  concern  of  mine,  you  must  allow  me  to  say 
this,  that  you  will  regret  it,  and  Miss  Dawlish  will 
regret  it,  if  you  let  anything  be  arranged  until  you 
have  seen  and  spoken  to  the  real  William  Dawlish, 
whom  I  saw  and  spoke  to  last  night  for  the  first 
time." 

"Where  did  you  see  him  and  speak  to  him?" 
demanded  Drew. 


1 88  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"  In  this  house,"  answered  Ferrers. 

"  In  this  house  !  "  exclaimed  Drew,  and  glared  at 
Sir  William,  who  stood  a  monument  of  rage  and 
despair. 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  Ferrers,  "I  ever  had  to  do 
with  the  shameful  business.  I  will  make  no  excuses 
for  myself,"  he  continued,  with  a  glance  at  Dolly, 
who  sat  with  heaving  bosom  and  averted  eyes  ;  "and 
if  you  wish  to  punish  me,  I  am  ready  to  submit." 

Drew  looked  at  Drumly,  and  Drumly  looked  at 
Drew  and  shook  his  head. 

"No,  sir,"  said  Drew;  "there  is  no  need  fora 
scandal.  The  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  go  away 
and  let  us  hear  of  you  no  more." 

"Very  well,"  said  Ferrers  ;  "I  shall  go  at  once.  I 
only  ask  permission  to  go  first  to  the  room  I  have 
been  occupying  to  put  on  my  own  clothes  ;  I  do  not 
wish  to  keep  anything  that  has  been  bought  with  Sir 
William  Dawlish's  money,  or  that  might  remind  me 
of  this." 

Drew  and  Drumly  looked  at  Sir  William,  who  gave 
no  sign  ;  so  Drew  nodded  to  Ferrers  in  token  of 
assent.  Ferrers  was  crossing  the  room  to  go  out  by 
the  door  when  Dolly  spoke. 

"  I  should  like,"  said  she,  looking  at  her  guardians, 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  189 

•'to  ask  Mr.  Ferrers  one  question — Did  he  to-day 
receive  money  from  my  uncle  ?  " 

"Money!"  exclaimed  Ferrers.  "I  would  not 
accept  a  shilling  from  Sir  William  Dawlish  !  " 

Upon  that  reply,  the  guardians  looked  at  their 
ward. 

"  That  is  all,"  said  she. 

So  Ferrers  went  out,  his  heart  bursting  with  this 
fresh  indignity,  which  he  thought  Miss  Dawlish  had 
put  upon  him,  and  at  the  end  of  a  few  minutes — 
during  which  those  in  the  library  kept  their  positions 
in  silence — he  appeared  crossing  the  gravel  sweep,  in 
an  old  tweed  suit  and  with  a  small  paper  parcel  under 
his  arm.  They  watched  him  walk  away  down  the 
drive  towards  the  gate,  till  he  was  hidden  by  the 
trees. 


190  *  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  END. 

"SiR  WILLIAM,"  said  Drumly,  "would  you  be  so 
good  as  leave  us  with  our  ward  for  a  little  ? " 

"Certainly,"  said  Sir  William,  "  and  after  that  I 
should  like  to  explain  this  matter  to  you."  And  hav- 
ing so  said,  he  went  out. 

When  he  had  gone,  Drumly  sat  up,  and  from  under 
his  heavy  brows  considered  with  a  grave,  kindly 
thoughtfulness  the  apathetic  attitude  and  look  of 
Miss  Dawlish.  Then  he  turned  to  his  partner. 
"  Drew,"  said  he,  "  that's  a  very  fine  young  fellow  : 
I  hope  no  harm  is  going  to  come  to  him." 

Dolly  glanced  quickly  up,  with  sharp  anxiety  and 
dread  on  her  face.  "  Oh,"  said  she,  "  I  hope  not !  " 

Drumly  said  nothing  for  a  moment ;  but  his  partner 
was  amazed  to  see  that  eye  of  Drumly  which  was 
next  to  him  half  close  and  open  again  :  he  would 
have  said  Drumly  had  winked,  had  he  ever  known 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  191 

him  wink  before,  or  had  his  solemn  face  permitted 
him  to  believe  that  he  had  winked  then. 

"Well,  my  dear,"  said  Drumly,  leaning  his  elbows 
on  the  table  and  playing  with  one  of  the  quills  before 
him,  "  would  you  mind  telling  us  whether  you  had 
any  conversation  to-day  with  Mr.  Ferrers  about  these 
matters?  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  us,  my  dear,  or 
shy  with  us  :  we  are  your  father's  friends,  who  are 
anxious  to  see  you  happy — old  fellows  who  know  the 
world  (Drew  here  is  an  old  married  man,  as  you 
know,  and  I'm  an  incorrigible  old  bachelor),  and 
who  may  be  able  to  give  you  advice.  Did  he  tell 
you  at  all  how  this  had  come  about  ? " 

"Yes  ;  he  did,"  answered  Dolly. 

"Would  you  mind  telling  us  the  facts  of  the  case 
as  he  put  them  ?  " 

So  Dolly  related  "  the  facts  of  the  case,"  as  barely 
as  she  could,  laying  unconscious  stress  upon  the,  to 
her,  shameful  fact  that  he  had  undertaken  the  ad- 
venture for  money. 

"Will  you  forgive  me,  my  dear,"  said  Drumly,  "if 
I  ask  whether  you  spoke  to  him  warmly  about  that  ?  " 

"I  did,"  confessed  Dolly,  and  blushed  violently. 
"  Indeed,  I  think  now  I  said  many  harder  things 
than  h«  deserved." 


193  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

At  that  moment  there  came  an  interruption,  The 
pony-chaise  swept  up,  and  Lord  Debrett  jumped  out ; 
he  had  just  returned  from  town.  Seeing  the  library 
window  open  and  people  sitting  within,  he  entered. 
He  stood  and  looked  round  upon  the  three,  and  on 
the  papers  on  the  table. 

' '  Not  intruding,  I  hope  ?  "  said  he.  ' '  But  I  fancied 

I  passed  at  the  end  of  the  avenue  Mr. — er "  he 

hesitated. 

"Mr.  Ferrers ?"  suggested  Drumly. 

"Ferrers?"  said  Debrett.  "Well,  yes;  Ferrers. 
There's  been  an  eclaircissement,  then,  I  suppose  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Drew,  "and  Mr.  Ferrers  is  gone." 

"Gone  !  "  exclaimed  Debrett  "Then,  by  Jove  ! 
I  go  too  ! — Don't  take  that  away,"  he  shouted  to  the 
man  in  charge  of  the  chaise.  "I'll  want  it. — Excuse 
me,"  said  he,  turning  alternately  to  Drew  and  Drumly, 
"but  you  shouldn't  have  turned  him  out  in  such  a 
hurry.  You  should  have  heard  the  whole  story. 
He's  a  capital  fellow — the  best  fellow  in  the  world  ; 
and  this  lark  was  not  his  doing.  It  was  Sir  William's 
idea,  and  I  led  Ferrers  into  it,  and  I  persuaded  him 
the  other  day  to  keep  it  up,  when  he  began  to  think 
it  looked  fishy." 

"And  how   fishy  it  is,"  said  Drumly,   "I   don't 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  193 

think  a  gentleman  like  you,  my  lord,  can  have 
guessed.  If  you  will  give  Mr.  Drew  a  moment,  I'm 
sure  he  will  be  glad  to  give  you  the  real  facts  of  the 
lark." 

Drumly  made  a  sign  to  Drew  that  he  wished  to  be 
alone  with  Dolly,  and  Drew  rose  and  went  out  by 
the  open  window  to  explain  the  case  to  Lord 
Debrett. 

"Dolly,  my  dear,"  said  Drumly  as  soon  as  they 
were  alone,  "I  want  to  tell  you  something  about 
myself,  if  you  will  let  me  " — Dolly  merely  signified 
her  assent  and  attention  by  fixing  her  eyes  on  him. 
— "  When  I  first  came  to  London,"  said  he,  "  many 
years  ago,  I  was  very  poor,  so  poor  at  one  time  that 
I  did  not  know  where  to  get  food — not  even  a  crust 
of  bread. " 

"  How  dreadful ! "  exclaimed  Dolly,  all  sym- 
pathy. 

"One  night,"  continued  Drumly,  "I  went  out  of 
the  little  lodging  I  had.  I  was  faint  with  hunger.  I 
had  had  no  food  at  all  that  day,  and  scarcely  any  the 
day  before.  I  was  passing  a  restaurant  where  many 
people  were  going  in  to  dinner.  As  I  was  near  the 
door,  almost  mad  with  the  desire  for  food,  a  cab 
dashed  up  and  a  gentleman  jumped  out.  In  pulling 


194  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

out  his  money  to  pay  the  cabman  he  dropped  a  shil- 
ling which  rolled  over  the  pavement  close  to  me ;  I 
put  my  foot  on  it  The  gentleman  quarrelled  with 
the  cabman  about  his  fare,  and  made  a  to-do  about 
the  money  he  had  dropped,  so  that  a  good  many 
people  gathered.  Hidden  by  them  I  picked  up  the 
shilling,  and  went  and  spent  part  of  it  on  a  supper  of 
bread  and  cheese.  Now  that  seems  to  you  perhaps 
a  mean,  dishonest  thing  to  have  done  ?  " 

Dolly  said  nothing,  but  her  eyes  were  fixed  on  him. 

"But,  my  dear,"  continued  Drumly,  "you  have 
never  missed  a  meal,  unless  you  may  have  been 
unwell,  and  you  have  never  wanted  for  a  shilling. 
You  have  no  idea  how  hunger  may  make  you  des- 
perate, how  it  may  make  you  hate  those  who  are 
well  fed,  and  how  it  may  tempt  you  to  do  things 
you  would  otherwise  shrink  with  shame  from.  Mr. 
Ferrers  told  you  he  was  poor,  did  he  not?  when  Sir 
William  made  him  the  tempting  offer." 

"He  said  he  was  poor — poorer  than  I  would 
believe,"  answered  Dolly. 

"Yes,"  said  Drumly;  "I  thought  so.  He  was 
probably  starving,  though  he  was  too  proud  to  tell 
you  so  ;  did  not  perhaps  know  where  he  was  to  get 
his  next  meal." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  195 

"Dreadful — dreadful!"  exclaimed  Dolly,  wring- 
ing her  hands.  ' '  And  I  said  cruel  things  to  him  ! 
— cruel,  cruel,  cruel !  Perhaps  he's  going  back  to 
London  to  starve  now  !  I'm  sure  he  has  no  money  !  " 
She  rose  to  her  feet,  but  in  a  moment  sat  down  again, 
and  burst  into  tears,  saying:  "What  shall  I  do? 
What  shall  I  do  ? "  * 

"Here  is  the  pony-chaise  outside.  Suppose," 
suggested  Drumly,  "we  drive  after  him — you  and  I 
— and  ask  him  to  forgive  us  for  being  so  hard  with 
him.  It  may  cheer  him  up,  and  perhaps  he  will  not 
be  too  proud  to  take  money  from  me." 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  cried.      "  Let  us  go  at  once." 

Drumly  limped  to  the  window  and  said  to  LonJ 
Debrett  that,  if  he  would  not  object,  he  wished  to 
have  the  pony-chaise  for  a  while. 

"  If  you  have  really  a  regard  for  Mr.  Ferrers,"  he 
added,  "you  will  wait  here  till  I  come  back.  You 
can  help  me  to  make  things  look  better. " 

To  his  partner  he  gave  the  short  but  sufficient 
explanation  that  he  was  going  to  take  Dolly  for  a 
short  drive  to  soothe  her  nerves. 

"Now,"  said  Drumly,  when  he  had  returned  into 
the  room,  "  I'll  get  your  things — I  know  where  they 
hang;  don't  you  trouble."  Then,  while  he  limped 


196  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

out  into  the  hall  to  get  her  cloak  and  hat,  and  his 
own  coat  and  wide-awake,  he  said  to  himself  :  "She 
is  a  high-spirited  girl,  and  I  must  go  gently  and 
gradually  with  her." 

Presently  they  were  driving  smartly  away  towards 
the  gate,  Drew  looking  after  them,  and  wondering 
what  had  come  to  his  old  taciturn  partner.  At  the 
gate  they  drew  up,  and  Drumly  asked  the  lodge- 
keeper  which  way  the  "gentleman"  had  gone  who 
had  passed  out  about  half  an  hour  before.  He  was 
shown  the  way,  and  then  he  drove  on. 

"  He  must  have  set  out  on  the  tramp  to  London/' 
said  Drumly.  "We  can't  possibly  miss  him  alon£ 
this  road,  unless  he  should  have  reached  the  com- 
mon before  we  overtake  him." 

"Oh,  drive  on,  then,  please,  as  fast  as  you  can  ' 
said  Dolly. 

Then,  as  they  sped  lightly  over  the  smooth  road, 
Drumly  began  to  let  such  things  as  these  fall  on  her 
ear — sayings  by  which  she  could  be  neither  alarmed 
nor  offended,  because  they  were  uttered  in  a  kind 
of  soliloquy  :  "It  is  possible  to  be  too  proud  as 
well  as  to  be  too  humble ;  and  there  is  a  humility 
that  looks  like  pride  as  well  as  a  pride  that  apes 
humility.  The  best  thing  in  the  few  affairs  of  real 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  197 

moment  in  life  is  to  be  rid  of  affectations,  if  possible, 
and  to  let  nature  speak ;  for,  certainly,  more  cold- 
ness, more  unhappiness,  and  more  heart-burning  are 
caused  by  mere  misunderstandings  than  by  any- 
thing else  in  the  world.  Rank  and  wealth  are  not 
to  be  despised  in  the  curious  compromise  of  a  world 
in  which  we  live;  but,  if  you  want  to  know  full, 
enduring  happiness,  you  must  set  your  heart  on  the 
simple  eternal  things  of  life — love  and  sympathy, 
health  and  honour." 

Thus  they  drove  on,  and  thus  these  sayings  and 
simple  sentiments  fell  gently  on  Dolly's  soul,  gently 
as  the  dew,  concerning  which,  when  once  it  has 
settled,  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  it  has  fallen 
or  risen. 

Meanwhile,  Ferrers  was  striding  on  towards  the 
great  maelstrom  of  the  despairing  and  the  dis- 
appointed— the  huge  London  whose  canopy  of 
smoke  he  could  discern  miles  away  as  he  mounted 
the  Downs.  His  heart  was  filled  with  wrath  and 
bitterness,  but,  at  least,  his  conscience  was  now 
clear.  He  had  made  what  amends  he  could  for 
the  evil  he  had  wrought.  He  saw  nothing  hope- 
ful before  him,  but  he  knew  he  must  keep  a  firm 
nether  lip,  and  work  at  something  for  a  living — 


198  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

what,  he  knew  not  yet.  But  he  had  health  and 
strength  :  the  springy  turf  of  the  common  on  which 
he  had  entered  was  as  grateful  to  the  foot  as  ever, 
and  the  evening  breeze  which  blew  over  the  fir-trees 
and  the  bracken  was  fresh  to  the  cheek  and  sweet 
to  the  smell. 

He  was  somewhat  discomposed  in  these  thoughts 
by  the  sound  of  --/heels  behind  him.  As  the  sound 
came  nearer  it  jarred  him  more.  So  he  turned  far- 
ther aside  from  the  road,  leaving  the  even  turf  and 
plunging  in  among  the  bracken.  Would  it  not  be 
pleasant,  he  thought,  to  make  his  bed  there  for  the 
night,  and  go  on  refreshed  in  the  early  dawn  ? — when 
his  ear  told  him  that  the  vehicle  had  stopped.  He 
turned  and  saw  that  a  man  and  a  woman  had  got 
out.  He  was  astounded  to  hear  his  name  called : 
"Ferrers !  " 

Then  he  saw  the  man  move  towards  him,  and  the 
man  limped !  Could  it  be  Drumly  ?  What  did  he 
want  with  him  ?  To  arrest  him  ?  He  walked  to 
meet  the  man. 

"What  do  you  want  with  me?"  he  asked  gruffly 
when  they  met.  "  Are  you  going  to  carry  me  back, 
to  take  me  to  prison  ?  Well,  I  don't  care  !  " 

"  You're  a  foolish  young  man,"  said  Drumly.      "  I 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  199 

want  to  be  your  friend.  And  here's  a  young  lady 
come  to  have  a  word  with  you." 

"What?     Miss  Dawlish  ?  " 

He  went  to  her,  hardening  his  heart  as  much  as 
possible  with  thought  of  all  the  angry  and  cruel 
things  she  had  said  to  him.  He  stood  in  her  pres- 
ence with  his  hands  crossed  before  him,  like  a  sol- 
dier standing  at  ease.  He  did  not  speak. 

"I  have  come  after  you,"  she  said,  frankly  look- 
ing in  his  eyes,  "  to  speak  to  you.  I  have  been  very 
wicked  to  you.  I  said  ugly,  cruel  things  to  you, 
and  thought  mean  thoughts  of  you.  I  am  bitterly — 
bitterly  sorry  !  Please,  forgive  me  !  " 

She  let  her  head  droop,  and  offered  her  hand. 
Ferrers  seized  it  in  a  passion  of  gratitude,  and  sank 
on  his  knees  kissing  it,  while  great,  painful  sobs 
heaved  his  chest,  and  scalding  hot  tears  were  wrung 
from  his  eyes.  The  burning  tears  fell  on  Dolly's 
hand. 

"Oh,  my  love  !  my  poor  love  !  "  she  cried  wildly, 
now  weeping  herself.  She  bent  over  him,  and 
stroked  his  head  with  fluttering  hand,  scarce  know- 
ing what  she  did,  and  still  cried,  scarce  knowing 
what  she  said,  "  My  dear  !  my  dear  !  " 

Ferrers  rose,  still  holding  her  hand.     They  looked 


300  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

into  each  other's  eyes,  and  said  no  word  more  ;  but 
Ferrers  took  her  other  hand  also,  and  drew  her  to 
him,  and  with  a  sigh  she  leaned  her  head  upon  his 
breast.  Then  she  appeared  to  come  to  herself.  She 
drew  back  covered  with  burning  blushes,  which  she 
tried  to  hide  with  her  hands. 

"  Come,  my  dear,"  said  Drumly,  gently  taking  her 
arm,  "there's  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of :  you  have 
let  nature  speak.  I  think  we  had  better  take  Mr. 
Ferrers  back  with  us  as  far  as  that  little  inn  we 
passed  and  leave  him  there  for  the  night. " 

So  all  three  got  into  the  chaise,  and  in  a  happy 
suffusion  of  silence,  drove  back  to  the  little  inn,  which 
stood  about  a  stone's-throw  from  the  margin  of  the 
common. 

"Now,"  said  Drumly,  when  they  had  been  shown 
into  a  little  sitting-room,  "I  guessed  it  before,  and 
I  don't  need  to  be  told  now,  that  you  two  people  are 
fond  of  each  other.  For  myself,  I  approve,  and  I'll 
stand  your  friend  throughout;  but  I'm  not  every- 
body ;  there's  my  partner  and  fellow-trustee,  Drew, 
to  be  considered.  I'll  tackle  him  for  you,  and  I  hope 
I'll  make  it  all  right.  But  just  tell  me,  Ferrers,  will 
you?  one  or  two  facts  about  yourself.  I  know  a 
good  deal  already,  but  I  want  to  know  more — 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  aoi 

facts  about  your  life  and  parentage  that  will  suit 
Drew.  Let  me  see.  You've  been  a  soldier,  haven't 
you  ? " 

"Twelve  years  in  the  Blues,"  said  Ferrers  ;  "  and 
when  I  left  I  was  sergeant. " 

"  And  I'm  sure, "said  Dolly  with  a  simple  touch  of 
pride,  "a  sergeant  can  be  as  strong  and  brave  as 
a  general. " 

"And  what  were  your  people,  may  I  ask?"  said 
Drumly.  "Farming,  I  think?" 

"Yes,"  said  Ferrers,  with  a  touch  of  pride  on  his 
own  part.  "  My  people  have  been  yeomen  in  Cum- 
berland for  ages." 

"Humph!"  said  Drumly.  "That  ought  to  be 
good  enough  for  Drew.  And  Lord  Debrett  is  an  old 
friend  of  yours,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"He  is." 

"That's  a  touch,"  said  Drumly,  "that'll  tell  with 
Drew  ;  he  has  a  weakness  for  that  kind  of  thing. — 
Well,  now,  Dolly,  my  dear,  we  must  go,  and  we'll 
come  here  and  see  Mr.  Ferrers  to-morrow  morning, 
when  I  hope  to  have  news  for  him." 

He  considerately  went  out  first,  to  let  the  lovers 
say  their  adieus  alone.  They  took  each  the  hands  of 
the  other,  and  looked  again  into  each  other's  eyes,  as 


202  *  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

if  anew  to  wonder  at  the  unfamiliar  depth  of  love  and 
understanding  they  revealed. 

"Was  I  very — very  angry  with  you  ?"  she  asked, 
hanging  her  head. 

"You  were,"  said  he,  "and  I  was  very  miserable; 
but  that  is  past." 

"  I  think,"  said  she,  "I  was  angrier  because  you 
were  so  humble.  Why  were  you  so  humble  ?  " 

"  How  could  I,"  said  he,  "  be  anything  but  hum- 
ble before  you  ? " 

"Come,  Dolly,  my  dear,"  sounded  the  voice  ot 
Drumly  ;  and  with  a  clinging  grasp  of  the  hand — no 
more — the  lovers  parted. 

When  they  were  gone,  the  little  inn  could  not  con- 
tain George  Ferrers.  From  Hell  he  had  been  raised 
to  Heaven — from  the  lowest  depth  of  darkness  and 
despair  to  the  giddiest  height  of  light,  and  life,  and 
hope.  He  went  out  and  walked  on  the  common. 
As  it  grew  dark,  he  returned  and  ate  an  enormous 
supper  of  bread  and  cheese  and  ale — it  was  the  first 
food  he  had  tasted  since  morning — and  that  done,  he 
went  out  again  into  the  open  air.  He  wandered 
back  the  way  he  had  come,  climbed  the  park  wall, 
and  approached  the  house,  nearer  and  nearer,  till  he 
was  against  ik™,  fence  that  separated  the  park  from 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  103 

the  garden  proper.  Long  he  stayed  there,  waiting — 
waiting  for  a  light  to  appear  in  the  window  that  he 
knew  as  hers.  There  was  a  light  in  the  library  ;  who, 
he  wondered,  was  sitting  there  ?  Aunt  Dawlish  with 
her  book  and  her  candle?  Or  Drew  and  Drumly 
discussing  his  prospects  ?  At  length  the  long-looked 
for  light  appeared,  and  he  saw  the  shadow  of  a 
woman's  figure  on  the  blind,  the  blind  was  raised, 
the  window  was  opened,  and  some  one  leaned  out 

"My  light!  my  life!  my  love!"  he  murmured, 
and  turned  away  to  get  back  betimes  to  his  inn. 

Meanwhile,  Ferrers'  destiny  hung  in  the  balance 
in  the  library  of  Dawlish  Place,  and  there  is  small 
doubt  but  that  the  scale  in  which  were  his  qualities 
and  pretensions  would  have  kicked  the  beam  had  it 
not  been  for  Lord  Debrett  Mr.  Drumly  stood  his 
friend,  as  he  had  promised,  but  his  friendship  would 
have  availed  little  against  the  steadfast  opposition  of 
Mr.  Drew.  Drew  was  the  senior  partner  and  trustee, 
and  he  made  the  most  of  his  position.  Moreover 
he  was  a  hard-headed  man  of  business  and  of  the 
world,  who,  notwithstanding  his  manner  of  genial 
good-fellowship,  had  no  great  softness  of  heart ;  and, 
being  a  married  man  of  many  years'  standing,  he 
had  a  suspicion  of  sentimental  love  affairs.  In  win- 


204  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

ning  this  difficult  and  obstinate  person  to  a  favourable 
view  of  his  comrade,  Lord  Debrett  showed  a  shrewd- 
ness and  a  worldly  wisdom  which  excited  Mr. 
Drumly's  admiration. 

"No,"  said  Drew;  "I  can't  see  how  we  can 
conscientiously  entertain  the  idea  at  all.  Indeed, 
frankly,  I  may  say  it  appears  to  me  an  impudent  and 
preposterous  pretension.  You  are  aware,  of  course, 
Lord  Debrett,  that  Miss  Dawlish  is  her  father's  sole 
heir,  and  that — that,  in  short,  she  ought  to  look  very 
high  indeed  for  a  husband." 

"No  doubt,  Mr.  Drew,"  said  Debrett  "But  if 
Miss  Dawlish — as  Mr.  Drumly  assures  you — wishes 
to  look  no  higher  than  my  friend  ? " 

"Oh,  she's  an  inexperienced  girl,  and  she'll  grow 
out  of  that." 

"She  has  her  father's  temper,  remember,"  said 
Drumly,  "and  he  was  high-spirited  and  self-willed, 
as  you  know,  Drew.  Besides,  you  mustn't  forget 
that  though  he  desired  a  certain  marriage  for  her, 
he  insisted  to  us  that  there  must  be  nothing  like 
coercion. " 

"Coercion?  Who  wants  coercion,  Drumly?  I 
only  want  the  girl  to  wait — till  she  really  knows  her 
own  mind." 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 


205 


"Certainly,  Mr.  Drew,"  said  Debrett;  '"Wait 'is 
the  word  ;  there's  no  immediate  hurry.  I  only  ask 
you  to  give  my  friend  a  chance — a  sufficient  chance. 
And  let  me  say  this  ;  look  as  high  as  you  like,  you 
won't  find  a  better  fellow,  all  round,  than  Ferrers. 
You  will  admit,  Mr.  Drew,  that  I  know  something  of 
Society  ?  " 

"Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Drew. 

"Well,  I  prefer  Ferrers  for  a  friend  to  any  man  I 
know.  I  have  known  him  for  twelve  years — I  have 
seen  him  under  all  sorts  of  circumstances,  in  bar- 
racks, on  the  march,  and  in  battle  in  the  Soudan, 
and  at  home  with  my  own  people  (he  has  often 
stayed  with  me).  He  is  a  staunch  comrade — and  a 
staunch  comrade  can't  miss  being  a  good  husband — 
he's  got  all  his  wits  about  him " 

"And  he  has  the  finest  health,"  put  in  Drumly. 

"Yes,"  said  Debrett;  "sound  as  a  bell,  and  as 
hard  as  nails." 

"Oh,"  said  Drew,  "I've  nothing  to  say  against 
him  as  a  man. " 

"There  is  nothing  against  him,"  said  Debrett, 
' '  but  this  affair,  and  that,  as  you've  heard,  he  was 
led  into.  It  was  a  pity  ;  it  was  wrong ;  but  he  has 
come  out  of  it  a#  well  as  any  man  could. " 


ao6  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

"Yes,"  admitted  Drew,  "  all  things  considered,  I 
think  he  has.  But  you  see  the  thing  is  he  has  neither 
property  nor  prospect,  and,  of  course — well,  he  is 
not  what  we  call  a  gentleman." 

"That  depends,"  said  Debrett,  "on  what  you 
mean  by  a  gentleman.  If  you  should  happen  to 
mean  a  man  that  would  never  do  anything  mean  and 
that  always  keeps  his  head,  and  that  can  reckon  back 
his  people  as  having  been  of  the  same  sort  for 
hundreds  of  years,  then  George  Ferrers  is  a  better 
gentleman  than  I  am.  And  as  to  property — well, 
he's  not  rich,  and  his  people  are  not  rich  ;  but  they 
have  owned  and  cultivated  the  same  land  since  the 
old  days  of  righting  between  England  and  Scotland." 

"Then,"  said  Drew,  with  a  final  burst  of  petulance, 
"why  doesn't  he  go  home  and  inherit  his  father's 
farm,  and  not  come  here  asking  for  heiresses  ? " 

"No,  no,"  said  Drumly,  "  do  him  justice,  Drew  ; 
he  has  not  asked  for  anything  ;  it's  we  are  asking  on 
his  behalf." 

"Then  about  prospects,"  said  Debrett,  keeping  to 
the  subject — "there,  Mr  Drew,  you  might  help  him." 

"  Me  ? "  exclaimed  Drew. 

"You  might  offer  him,"  said  Debrett,  "a  place  in 
your  bank  :  he  can  tot  up  figures  like  one  o'clock. " 


A  SOLDIER  AMD  A  GENTLEMAN.  207 

Drew  stared  from  Debrett  to  Drumly,  and  Drumly 
laughed  "  Ho,  ho  !  "  in  the  depth  of  his  beard. 

"I'll  be  responsible  for  him,"  said  Debrett,  "to 
any  amount." 

"My  dear  Lord  Debrett,"  said  Drumly,  "you  don't 
quite  understand  my  partner's  astonishment.  Bank- 
ing, is  something  like  soldiering  :  you  must  be  put  to 
it,  or  take  to  it,  pretty  young  to  make  anything  of  it. 
No  ;  I  think  the  prospect  for  your  friend  is  to  look 
after  an  estate,  because  he  understands  farming." 

"Yes,"  said  Debrett,  "  I  suppose  that's  better." 

"I  daresay,"  said  Drew  lightly,  as  if  it  were  no 
concern  of  his,  "he  might  get  a  situation  of  that 
sort. " 

"I  hope  he  will,"  said  Drumly:  "and  I  have  a 
definite  proposal  to  make,  Drew,  to  that  end.  We 
can't  let  Sir  William's  mortgage  be  foreclosed  :  we 
agree  on  that.  We  must  take  it  up.  But  we  can't 
leave  Sir  William  in  charge  of  the  estate.  Suppose 
we  put  Mr.  Ferrers  in  charge,  and  see  if  he  can  make 
it  pay  ? " 

That  looked  merely  like  business  ;  and  Drew,  after 
pulling  his  whisker  a  moment,  said:  "I  have  no 
objection.  Very  well  now  ;  I  agree  to  our  taking  up 
the  mortgage,  pensioning  Sir  William  off  for  the  sake 


208  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

of  his  brother,  and  putting  Mr.  Ferrers  in  charge  of 
the  estate,  on  condition  that  I  hear  no  more  of  his 
marrying  Miss  Dawlish. " 

"You  shall  hear  no  more  at  present,"  said  Drumly ; 
"there  is  plenty  for  him  to  do  before  he  thinks  of 
marrying. " 

"  Let  me  only  ask  this  of  you,  Mr.  Drew,"  said  the 
wily  Debrett :  ' '  permit  me  and  my  friend  Ferrers  to 
visit  your  house."  Debrett,  of  course,  reckoned  that 
if  his  friend  were  admitted  to  Drew's  house,  he  could 
hardly  be  forbidden  to  speak  to  Miss  Dawlish,  who 
lived  there. 

"Always  be  delighted  to  see  you,  my  lord,"  said 
Drew,  "and  I  can't  in  common  courtesy  refuse  to  see 
your  friend." 

It  was  impossible  to  insist  further ;  and  Lord 
Debrett  was  withdrawing  somewhat  disappointed 
with  the  result  of  his  efforts  on  Ferrers'  behalf,  when 
Mr.  Drumly  took  his  arm  and  drew  him  aside,  and 
said:  "Don't  be  impatient;  we'll  conquer  Drew. 
He  thinks  he's  as  sharp  as  steel,  but  he  isn't ;  he 
thinks  he  can  see  round  a  corner,  but  he  can't. 
I  believe  in  your  friend ;  he'll  come  out  all  right ; 
and  I'm  going  to  make  him  my  heir  to-morrow." 

It  is  not  surprising  that  next  morning  before  break- 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.  309 

fast  (the  party  was  to  break  up  immediately  after). 
Drumly  should  have  got  out  the  pony-chaise,  and, 
accompanied  by  Dolly  and  Debrett — of  course,  quite 
without  pre-arrangement — should  have  driven  down 
the  avenue  and  out  by  the  great  gate  towards  the 
little  inn  on  the  edge  of  the  common.  Nor  is  it  sur- 
prising that  before  they  had  been  well  on  the  road 
they  should  have  encountered  Ferrers,  who  looked 
very  shame-faced.  Like  an  honest  man,  he  attempted 
no  limping  excuse  of  his  being  found  where  he  was ; 
and  Drumly,  leaving  Debrett  and  Dolly  to  drive  on 
a  little  together,  walked  along  the  grassy  margin  OK 
the  road  with  his  arm  in  that  of  Ferrers,  and  told  him 
all  the  news  of  the  night  before.  The  proposal  that 
he  should  take  charge  of  the  estate  Ferrers  unhesitat- 
ingly accepted,  inwardly  resolving  that  at  any  cost 
he  would  be  found  equal  to  the  confidence  placed  in 
him. 

"  It  is  awfully  good  of  you,"  said  he  to  Mr.  Drumly, 
"to  take  so  much  trouble  for  a  man  about  whom 
you  know  next  to  nothing. " 

"You  see,"  said  Drumly,  with  a  grim  smile,  "I 
have  the  misfortune  to  like  the  man  and  believe  in 
him,  and  so  has  Lord  Debretl  You  have  really  to 

thank  him  more  than  me  for  winning  Drew  over  to 

14 


210  A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN. 

this  arrangement.  And  this  done,  it  depends  on 
yourself,  my  son — perhaps  a  little  on  your  good  friend 
Debrett — how  all  the  rest  follows." 

They  then  met  Lord  Debrett  and  Dolly  driving 
back.  There  were  no  lingering  adieus ;  for  they 
were  all  likely  to  meet  in  London  next  day  or  the 
day  after.  Ferrers'  heart  was  full  :  what  had  he 
done  to  deserve  all  this  kindness  ? 

"I  have  to  thank  you,"  said  he,  gripping  Lord 
Debrett's  hand. 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right  old  cnap,"  said  Debrett  "Sec 
you  in  town  to-morrow." 

"Good-bye,"  said  Dolly  and  he  together;  their 
hands  and  their  eyes  met,  and  that  was  all. 

So  they  parted  for  a  little  while.  They  drove 
back  to  Dawlish  Place,  and  he  stood  looking  after 
them  till  the  turn  of  the  road  hid  them  from  sight, 
and  then  he  returned  to  the  little  inn,  whence  in  an 
hour  or  two  he  departed  for  London. 

There  are  but  these  facts  further  to  record  :  Ferrers 
won  more  and  more  the  favour  of  the  business-like 
Drew  ;  within  a  year  he  had  brought  the  administra- 
tion of  the  estate  and  the  Home  Farm  to  a  surpris- 
ing pitch  of  order  and  economy  :  in  little  more  than 
the  year  he  was  overwhelmed  by  the  receipt  from 


A  SOLDIER  AND  A  GENTLEMAN.        t    til 

Drumly  of  the  title-deeds  of  the  estate — Drumly  had 
bought  the  estate,  and  the  one  condition  he  attached 
to  his  gift  to  Ferrers  was  that  the  young  man  should 
take  the  name  of  Dawlish,  so  that  his  late  partner's 
desire  might  be  fulfilled  that  the  Dawlish  name 
and  the  Dawlish  land  should  keep  together ;  and 
within  eighteen  months  it  was  announced  in  the 
newspapers  that  "  George  Ferrers  Dawlish,  of 
Dawlish  Place,"  had  married  "Dorothy  (Dolly) 
Dawlish,  only  child  of  the  late  Robert  Dawlish, 
Esquire,  of  the  City  of  London. " 

THE  END. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF 
STREET  &    SMITH 

232  to  238  William  Street 
NEW  YORK 

¥ 
ACHARD,  AMEDEE. 

This  author  is  not  as  familiar  to  American  and  English  readers  as 
the  merit  of  his  work  would  warrant,  but  it  is  a  positive  pleasure  to 
exploit  the  writings  of  one  so  well  equipped  for  a  foremost  position  in 
the  school  of  which  Alexandre  Dumas,  Theophile  Gautier  and  Stanley 
J.  Weyman  are  the  accepted  standards.  Mons.  Achard's  works  are 
popular  favorites  with  the  French  people,  and  the  excellent  trans- 
lations of  his  best  novels  which  we  are  presenting  to  the  public  in 
moderate-priced  editions  cannot  fail  to  please  and  satisfy  all  lovers 
of  "The  Three  Musketeers,"  "A  Gentleman  of  France/'  "Captain 
Fracasse,"  and  works  of  like  tenor. 

Belle  Rose — A  Romance  of  the  Cloak  and  Sword. 
Translated  by  William  Hale,  with  a  biography  of 
the  author.  Five  full -page  illustrations.  i2mo, 
368  pages.  Cloth  binding.  $1.25 

"Belle-Rose"  is  a  romance  in  which  the  hero  undertakes  and  con- 
quers all  manner  of  difficulties  for  the  love  of  a  woman.  The  author 
throws  the  glamor  of  love  and  war  over  all,  introducing  such  cele- 
brated characters  in  history  as  to  give  it  an  air  of  reality,  until  the 
reader  regrets  at  the  close  that  the  story  has  come  to  an  end. 

The  Dragoons  of  La  Guerche — A  Sequel  to  "The 
Huguenot's  Love."  Translated  by  Richard  Duffy. 
Five  full-page  illustrations.  I2mo,  358  pages. 
Cloth  binding.  $1.2*, 

Although  "The  Huguenot's  Love"  is  so  complete  and  fascinating  a 
story  in  itself,  the  sequel  is  bound  to  prove  a  still  greater  satisfaction 
to  the  reader.  In  "The  Dragoons  of  La  Guerche"  we  find  the  two 
heroes  of  the  former  tale  riding  at  the  head  of  their  band  of  cavalry 
through  the  most  hostile  territory  of  Europe  in  the  quest  of  the  two 
fair  women  they  loved.  The  Thirty  Years  War  is  still  further  de- 
scribed in  this  later  work,  and  history  and  fancy,  fact  and  fiction  are 
so  dexterously  interwoven  throughout  its  pages,  that  even  the  most 
unimaginative  reader  must  find  himself  living  back  in  those  glorious 
days  of  stately  dames  and  handsome  knights-errant. 

(1) 


Street  &  Smitb'g  Catalogue  of  JBoofeg 

ACHARD,  AMEDEE— Continued, 

The  Huguenots  Love,  Translated  by  Richard  Duffy. 
Five  full-page  illustrations.  i2mo,  333  pages.  Cloth 
binding.  $1.25 

In  this  volume  the  gifted  author  gives  a  splendid  picture  of  the 
religious  strife  which  paralyzed  all  Europe  in  the  middle  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  The  two  main  characters  are  in  religion  ene- 
mies, but  personally  the  dearest  of  friends.  They  are  valiant  French- 
men, who  under  the  standard  of  Gustavus  Adolphus,  engaged  in  the 
immortal  Thirty  Years'  War.  Their  sweethearts  follow  them  in  their 
expedition  and  incur  some  marvelous  adventures.  The  full-length 
historical  portrait  of  Gustavus  Adolphus  is  the  noblest  effort  of 
Achard's  great  mind.  The  king's  love  affair  with  Margaret  Cabeliau 
is  one  of  the  most  touching  and  beautiful  episodes  in  the  book. 

The  Sword  of  a  Gascon,  Translated  by  William 
Hale.  Five  full-page  illustrations.  I2mo,  289  pages. 
Cloth  binding.  $1.25 

This  story  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  is  a  typical  "  romance  of  the 
cloak  and  sword."  The  Gascon  hero  is  bold  and  daring,  like  all  those 
of  his  race.  He  is  an  accomplished  swordsman,  a  gallant  cavalier, 
who  pays  court  to  an  inn-keeper's  daughter  or  the  niece  of;a  cardinal 
with  equal  grace  and  equal  success.  All  those  who  would  enjoy  a 
romance  of  pure  adventure  will  take  a  delight  in  this  work. 

J.  M,  BARRIE, 

The  Little  Minister,  Five  full-page  illustrations.  1 2mo, 
31 1  pages.  Cloth  binding.  500. 

There  is  no  novel  of  recent  days  that  has  had  a  more  world-wide 
popularity  than  the  "Little  Minister."  The  dramatic  production  of 
the  work  has  delighted  large  and  cultured  audiences  in  New  York  and 
all  the  other  principal  cities  of  America.  It  is  true  the  drama  has  been 
excellently  interpreted  by  first-class  actresses  and  actors,  but  beyond 
and  above  all  this  is  the  strong  human  interest  involved  in  the  story 
itself,  which  made  it  a  popular  book  long  before  it  had  been  drama- 
tized. Our  new  edition  is  positively  the  best  that  has  been  placed 
before  the  public  at  a  popular  price. 

ROBERT   BUCHANAN, 

The  Wedding  Ring.  i2mo,  300  pages.  Cloth  bind- 
ing. 250. 

This  story  is  one  of  the  best  that  Mr.  Ehichanan  has  ever  written. 
His  reputation  as  a  writer  of  splendid  romances  of  great  power  and 
pathos  is  certainly  sustained  by  this  story. 

BAB  BALLADS, 

By  W.  S.  Gilbert.     i2mo,  234  pages.    Cloth  binding. 

5oc. 

When  it  is  remembered  that  the  author  is  the  celebrated  composer 
of  Gilbert  &  Sullivan's  comic  operas,  it  will  not  surprise  the  public  to 
learn  that  the  sale  of  "The  Bab  Ballads  "  has  long  passed  the  hundred 
thousand  mark.  There  are  about  one  hundred  and  forty  original 
comic  illustrations  by  the  author. 
(2) 


Street  &  Smttb'g  Catalogue  ot  JSoofts 

HALL   CAINE. 

The  Last  Confession,     i2mo,  177  pages.     Cloth  bind- 
ing. 500. 

Hall  Caine  is  already  one  of  the  most  famous  novelists.  This  story 
is  well  sustained  throughout  and  cannot  fail  to  interest  readers  of  his 
novels.  The  story  of  "The  Blind  Mother,"  also  contained  in  this  book, 
is  a  most  pathetic  story,  and  is  written  in  the  best  literary  style  of  the 
author. 

MRS.  EMILY  LOVETT  CAMERON. 

The  Craze   of   Christina.     I2mo,  241   pages.     Cloth 
binding.  250. 

Mrs.  Cameron  hits  upon  a  genuinely  comic  idea,  and  she  develops  it 
with  the  skill  and  assurance  of  a  practiced  novelist.  She  means  to 
entertain  her  readers,  and  entertain  them  she  does. 

The  London  World  says  :  *'  An  amusing  book  is  always  sure  of  a 
welcome,  and  'The  Craze  of  Christina'  should  be  very  popular." 

A  Difficult  Matter.     I2mo,  320  pages.     Cloth  bind- 
ing. 25C. 

"Concerning  this  book,"  Black  and  White  says:  "We  have  a  few 
writers  whose  books  arouse  in  us  certain  expectations  which  are 
always  fulfilled.  Such  a  writer  is  Mrs.  Lovett  Cameron,  and  her 
story.  'A  Difficult  Matter.'  does  not  make  us  change  our  opinion. 
Mrs.  Lovett  Cameron's  admirers  will  not  be  disappointed  in  'A 
Difficult  Matter.'  It  is  a  pleasant,  readable  story,  told  in  an  inter- 
esting manner." 

A  Fair  Fraud.    I2mo,  276  pages.    Cloth  binding.    <>oc. 

A  very  pretty  love  story  with  an  interesting  plot.  A  noble  girl 
renounces  her  lover  because  her  father  's  crimes  have  disgraced  the 
family  name.  In  her  efforts  to  shield  her  father,  she  brings  unjust 
suspicions  on  herself,  which  are  finally  cleared  away  and  bring  out 
her  sterling  integrity  and  worth. 

EGERTON  CASTLE. 

Consequences.    i2mo,  257  pages.    Cloth  binding.    500. 

In  1857,  a  young  man  of  twenty-three  was  repenting  at  leisure  from 
having  married  in  haste  a  year  before.  He  was  a  healthy  fellow, 
devoted  to  exercise  and  country  pleasure,  and  his  wife's  only  longings 
carried  her  into  lighted  halls  and  social  superficiality.  One  day  she 
disobeyed  him  and  went  alone  to  one  of  these  gatherings.  "The 
Consequences"  make  the  story. 

MARY  CHOLMONDELEY. 

The  Danvers  Jewels.  i2mo,  192  pages.  Cloth  binding. 

5oc. 

Here  a  pink  and  white  nonentity,  apparently  without  a  thought 
beyond  a  neat  adjustment  of  pearl  powder,  plots  to  obtain  the 
Danvers  Jewels.  The  woman's  tricks  and  those  of  her  accomplice 
make  a  delightful  story,  and,  incidentally,  show  up  the  absurdity  of 
an  uncle  who  is  ready  to  distrust  his  nephews  and  lay  himself  open 
to  be  taken  in  by  entire  strangers. 
(3) 


Street  &  Smitb'g  Catalogue  ot  3Booft6 

J.  MACLAREN  COBBAN. 

A  Soldier  and  a  Gentleman.  I2mo,  21 1  pages.  Cloth 
binding.  5oc. 

The  hero  is  a  manly  youth,  who  has  seen  service  in  the  English 
army,  and  who,  upon  his  return  to  a  civilian's  life,  finds  himself  rather 
out  of  his  element  and  extremely  hard  up.  For  a  consideration,  he 
agrees  to  represent  another  person,  and  in  this  compromising  position 
makes  love  to  a  pretty,  and,  at  the  same  time,  wealthy  young  woman. 
How  he  proves  himself  to  be  a  Soldier  and  a  Gentleman  must  be  left 
to  the  reader  to  discover. 

WILL   LEVINGTON   COMFORT. 

Trooper  Tales.  i2mo,  248  pages.  Six  full-page  half- 
tone illustrations.  Cloth  binding.  $1.00 

The  sixteen  tales  which  comprise  this  volume  are  each  and  every 
one  literary  gems,  vivid  in  color,  and  forcible  in  style.  The  work  may 
on  the  one  hand  impair  lofty  ideal  pictures  of  our  soldier  boys ;  but 
again  it  shows  a  sentimental  side  to  the  real  man  beneath  his  rugged 
exterior  that  is  full  of  compensation  for  the  loss  of  any  illusions.  Mr. 
Comfort  is  original  and  "  American  "  in  his  work.  This  is  one  of  the 
books  that  will  live,  one  that  everybody  who  lays  claim  to  literary 
taste  is  going  to  read.  Especially  will  the  book  commend  itself  to  all 
who  served  in  the  late  war  and  to  their  friend  whose  sympathies 
followed  them.  Every  soldier  will  recognize  the  scenes  and  characters 
and  tell  his  friends,  "That's  just  how  it  was,  and  told  the  right  way." 

WILL   M.  CLEMENS. 

Life  of  Admiral  George  Dewey.  i2mo,  196  pages. 
Cloth  binding.  Eleven  full-page  illustrations,  ^oc. 

The  author  has  given  us  a  most  excellent  and  entertaining  book, 
which  will  prove  a  fitting  ornament  and  a  valuable  acquisition  to  any 
home  in  the  land. 

RALPH   CONNOR. 

Black  Rock — A  tale  of  the  Selkirks.  I2mo,  224  pages. 
Cloth  binding.  5oc. 

This  story  is  virtually  the  history  of  a  crusade  against  drink  in 
northwest  Canada.  The  characters  are  nearly  all  real  persons  who 
are,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  miners.  Although  the  account  of  the 
hero's  missionary  work  takes  up  most  of  the  story,  incidents  of  mining 
life  are  described,  and  Mrs.  Mavor's  (the  heroine's)  interesting  history 
is  told. 

MARIE  CORELLL 

Cameos — A  collection  of  fourteen  short  stories  by  the 
author  of  "The  Master  Christian."  279  pages. 
Cloth  binding.  ">oc. 

(4) 


Street  &  Smith's  Catalogue  ot  Boofes 

ELEANOR   HOOPER   CORYELL. 

Out  of  the  Past.     I2mo,  168  pages.     Cloth  binding. 

5OC. 

"Out  of  the  Past"  is  a  book  with  charm  and  power.  Here  are 
people  real  and  breathing  whom  we  love  or  despise  as  though  they 
had  entered  our  lives.  The  contrasts  drawn  are  clear  and  strong. 
The  priest  and  the  young  hero,  the  heroine,  the  brilliant  ballet  dancer, 
and  the  pretty  French  maid  are  finely  contrasted.  The  plot  hangs 
upon,  wrongs  done  in  the  past  by  people  not  now  living,  and  the 
steady  march  of  the  tragedy  has  the  force  of  the  inevitable.  Yet,  sad 
as  is  its  theme,  the  story  has  grace  and  charm,  and  one  is  sorry  when 
the  characters  have  passed  on,  and  the  last  page  closes  upon  them. 

ALPHONSE   DAUDET. 

Sapho — A   picture   of  Parisian  manners.     I2mo,  206 
pages.     Cloth  binding.  5<x. 

The  book  whose  dramatization  caused  no  end  of  trouble.  This  is 
the  original  Olga  Nethersole  edition,  and  contains  some  very  realistic 
illustrations.  If  one  is  in  doubt  as  to  whether  it  is  possible  for  a 
woman  of  the  demi  monde  to  possess  an  absorbing  love,  Daudet's 
book  may  correct  the  opinion  and  suggest  that  there  was  some  good 
even  in  the  woman  whose  bronze  counterpart  was  flaunted  before  the 
eyes  of  all  Paris. 

BICKNELL   DUDLEY. 

A   Gentleman   from    Gascony — A    Romance    of   the 
Huguenots.    i2mo,  300  pages.    Cloth  binding.    25c. 

This  is  a  tale  of  the  time  of  Charles  IX.,  the  story  opening  in  the 
year  1572.  Raoul  de  Puycadere  is  of  a  noble  family,  but  his  posses- 
sions have  been  squandered  by  his  ancestors,  and  he  leaves  for  Paris 
to  better  his  position  at  court.  He  arrives  on  the  eve  of  the  massacre 
of  St.  Bartholomew,  and  his  lady  love,  Gabrielle,  having  heard  of  the 
contemplated  killing,  binds  a  sign  on  his  arm  to  protect  him.  By  great 

food  luck  he  is  made  equerry  to  the  King  of  Navarre,  and  between  his 
uties  as  equerry  and  his  lovemaking  passes  through  many  exciting 
adventures. 


ELLEN  THORNEYCROFT  FOWLER. 

Concerning  Isabel  Carnaby.    I2mo,  232  pages.     Cloth 
binding.  500. 

This  is  the  story  of  an  extremely  clever  and  witty  English  girl,  the 
possessor  of  a  comfortable  fortune,  who,  upon  her  return  to  England, 
after  a  four  years'  residence  in  India,  meets  Paul  Seaton,  at  the  home 
of  a  relative,  where  he  has  been  a  tutor.  He  is  an  intelligent,  ambitious 
fellow,  the  son  of  a  non-conformist  minister,  who  becomes  a  successful 
novelist.  The  relations  of  these  two  people  to  each  other  is  the  story. 
(5) 


Street  &  Smttb'8  Catalogue  of  3Boofe6 

SARAH  GRAND. 

The  Heavenly  Twins.    I2mo,  679  pages.    Cloth  bind- 
ing. 500. 

Evadne  Frayling  is  the  real  heroine,  the  author  expending  much 
space  upon  the  elaboration  of  her  original  character.  Evadne  has 
tresh  views  about  life,  and  men  and  women,  believing  that  there  are 
as  strong  reasons  for  purity  in  men  as  virtue  in  women.  Her  life 
in  her  two  marriages  illustrates  her  theories  when  brought  into  con- 
tact with  realities. 

WILLIAM  MURRAY  GRAYDON. 

In  Friendship's  Guise.     121710,  262  pages.     Cloth  bind- 
ing. 500. 

This  work  shows  the  author  to  be  fully  the  equal  of  Robert  W. 
Chambers  in  that  class  of  fiction  which  deals  with  art  and  the  Bohe- 
mian life  of  the  artist.  There  is  a  complication  of  artists'  studios, 
stolen  pictures,  love  and  scheming  villainy,  which  go  to  make  up  a  plot 
of  the  most  intense  interest.  It  is  not  one  of  those  disappointing  books 
in  which  you  can  see  the  end  before  you  have  completed  the  first 
chapter.  New  complications  and  surprises  appear  at  every  turn  in 
this  excellent  story. 

CHARLES  CURTIS  HAHN. 

The  Wreck  of   the  South  Pole,  and  other  Stories. 
i2mo,  222  pages.     Cloth  binding.  500. 

The  title  story  in  this  collection  is  founded  on  the  theme  of  a  ship- 
wrecked traveler  who  lands  in  an  unknown  country  near  the  South 
Pole,  and  finds  the  inhabitants  to  be  gifted  with  the  power  of  mind 
reading.  The  strange  complications  that  arise  from  this  remarkable 
condition,  and  the  peculiarities  of  a  government  of  mind-readers  by 
mind-readers  forms  a  distinctly  interesting  story. 

A.  D.  HALL. 

China,  the  Land  of  Contradiction.     I2mo,  219  pages. 
Cloth  binding.  500. 

This  is  a  timely  book  on  a  subject  that  is  at  present  of  interest  to 
many  people  throughout  the  entire  country  ;  it  has  been  prepared 
with  special  care  and  exhaustive  research.  The  author  nas  pre- 
sented a  vital  picture  of  the  situation  in  a  terse  and  vigorous  style 
that  is  at  once  interesting  and  complete.  The  book  also  contains  the 
latest  authentic  map  of  China. 

Cuba — Porto  Rico.    I2mo,  171 1  pages.    Contains  a  map 
of  Cuba,  also  one  of  Porto  Rico.   Cloth  binding.   500. 

The  author  gives  in  this  book  an  idea  of  the  present  condition  of 
these  fertile  islands ;  the  opportunity  for  American  enterprise  and 
future  development ;  the  mineral  wealth  and  where  it  lies  ;  the  agri- 
cultural possibilities  :  the  commercial,  etc.,  etc., 
(6) 


Street  &  Smith's  Catalogue  of  JBoofts 


A,  D.  HALL — Continued. 

Hawaii — Philippines.  12010,  177  pages.  With  a  copy 
of  the  latest  authentic  map  of  Hawaii  and  also  of  the 
Philippine  Islands.  Cloth  Binding.  5oc. 

The  above  is  really  a  companion  volume  to  the  author's  book  on 
Cuba  and  Porto  Rico,  and  like  it  tells  you  just  what  you  want  to  know 
about  our  new  possessions. 

A  Life  of  The  Pope  Leo  XHL  i2mq,  197  pages. 
Neatly  printed  ;  handsomely  bound  in  white  and 
gold,  gold  top.  5oc. 

This  is  a  work  that  will  prove  valuable  and  interesting  to  all 
thinking  people,  whatever  may  be  their  religious  convictions.  It  is 
written  from  a  non-sectarian  standpoint,  and  those  who  are  familiiar 
with  Mr.  Hall's  entertaining  and  instructive  treatment  of  the  histo- 
rical subjects  with  which  he  has  formerly  dealt  will  welcome  this  his 
latest  production.  Pope  Leo  XIII.  has  undeniably  been  a  potent  factor 
in  the  formation  of  the  history  of  the  world  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  and  his  personality  and  history  are  rightly  sub- 
jects in  which  the  world  at  large  are  interested. 

R  IRVING  HANCOCK. 

"What  One  Man  Saw.  Being  the  personal  impressions 
of  a  war  correspondent  in  Cuba.  I2mo,  177  pages, 
with  six  full-page  illustrations  from  photographs 
taken  by  the  author.  Cloth  binding.  5oc. 

"What  One  Man  Saw"  is  a  connected  narrative  of  the  personal 
impressions  of  a  war  correspondent,  whose  experiences  began  with 
the  embarkation  of  General  Shafter's  command  from  Key  West,  lasted 
during  the  dire  but  glorious  days  before  the  capture  of  Santiago,  and 
closed  with  the  home-coming  in  the  pest-hold  of  the  hospital  ship 
41  Seneca."  The  style  of  this  personal  record  is  straightforward,  blunt 
and  exceedingly  interesting.  The  book  constitutes  a  most  useful  and 
comprehensive  budget  of  history  of  the  most  dramatic  days  of  the 
Spanish-American  war. 

HENRY  HARLAND. 

As  it  Was  Written — A  Jewish  Musician's  Story.  1 2mo, 
252  pages.  Cloth  binding.  75C. 

"As  It  Was  Written"  is  the  confession  of  a  man  who,  under  peculiar 
circumstances,  murders  the  woman  he  loves  and  then  gives  himself 
up  to  Ihe  punishment  that  the  terrible  crime  demands. 

Grandison  Mathet — An  account  of  the  fortunes  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Thomas  Gardner.  I2mo,  338  pages.  Cloth 
binding.  75C. 

The  opening  chapter  gives  a  sunny  picture  of  Tom's  vacation  in 
Paris,  after  finishing  his  college  course,  and  his  courtship  of  "  Mrs. 
Tom." 

His  honeymoon' is  without  a  cloud.  He  returns  to  New  York,  takes 
an  elegant  suite  of  apartments  and  proceeds  to  enjoy  life.  One  day 
be  learns  through  a  newspaper  that  his  agent  has  committed  suicide 
(7) 


Street  &  Smitb'g  Catalogue  of  JBooftg 

HENRY  HARLAND— Continued. 

after  making  away  with  his  entire  fortune.  Tom  is  a  beggar,  and 
enjoys  the  novel  experience  of  looking  for  a  situation.  This  part  of 
the  story,  including  the  search  for  a  cheap  boarding  house,  is  capitally 
told.  After  many  experiences  Tom  writes  a  successful  novel  and 
makes  some  money.  The  story  is  a  simple  eyery-day  one  throughout 
and  is  charmingly  told.  It  is  full  of  graphic  pictures  of  New  York  life. 

A  Latin-Quarter  Courtship,  and  other  stories.  I2mo, 
269  pages.  Cloth  binding.  750. 

The  first  story  covers  190  pages,  and  is  a  charmingly  told  tale  of 
life  and  love  in  Paris,  in  which  the  actors  are  an  American  woman 
doctor,  her  friend  a  young  French  girl,  and  an  American  author.  The 
two  latter,  of  course,  fall  in  love  with  each  other. 

Mrs.  Peixada.    I2mo,  317  pages.    Cloth  binding.     750. 

The  hero,  a  young  lawyer  whose  first  case  is  the  tracking  of  Mrs. 
Peixada,  a  charming  woman  of  about  twenty-three  summers,  accused 
of  shooting  her  husband.  The  plot  is  as  peculiar  as  that  of  '*  As  It 
Was  Written."  The  denouement  is  a  thorough  surprise. 

Mademoiselle  Miss,  and  other  stories.  I2mo,  192 
pages.  Cloth  binding.  750. 

The  title-story  of  the  present  volume,  as  well  as  those  which  follow 
it,  shows  the  same  clear  insight  into  character,  the  same  strength  and 
delicacy  of  description,  and  the  same  faculty  of  individualizing  the 
personages  of  the  narrative,  as  are  manifest  in  Mr.  Harland's  previous 
work. 

Mea  Ctilpa — A  Woman's  Last  Word.  i2mo,  347 
pages.  Cloth  binding.  750. 

To  save  her  father,  a  woman  marries  a  European  prince.  It  is  a 
loveless  marriage  and  the  life  is  a  bitter  one.  A  former  lover  appears  ; 
there  is  a  duel ;  the  prince  dies.  Then,  instead  of  marriage  bells,  there 
is  the  sadness  of  farewell.  The  lover  feels  himself  a  murderer  and 
takes  his  own  life  in  an  agony  of  despair. 

The  Yoke  of  the  Thorah.  I2mo,  320  pages.  Cloth 
binding.  750. 

Two  lovers  were  to  be  married  in  the  spring.  That  one  was  a  Jew 
and  the  other  a  Christian  didn't  seem  to  matter.  But  the  God  of 
Israel  intervenes  through  a  venerable  rabbi,  and  a  struggle  begins 
between  hope  and  doubt.  The  story  is  taken  up  with  the  attempts  of 
the  lovers  to  come  together  and  the  plans  of  the  elders  to  keep  them 
separate. 

ERNEST  WILLIAM  HORNUNG. 

Tiny  Luttrell.  I2mo,  364  pages.  Printed  from  new 
plates,  large  type,  with  a  good  strong  cloth  binding; 
cover  design  in  two  colors.  500. 

(8) 


Street  &  Smttb'g  Catalogue  of  JBoofes 

REV.  PROF.  J.  H.  INGRAHAM. 

The  Prince  of  the  House  of  David ;  or,  Three  Years  in 
the  Holy  City.  Relating  as  an  eye-witness  all  the 
scenes  and  wonderful  incidents  in  the  life  of  Jesus 
of  Nazareth.  i2mo,  278  pages,  with  one  frontis- 
piece illustration.  Cloth  binding.  500. 

RUDYARD  KIPLING. 

The  Vampire  and  Other  Poems.  12010,  200  pages. 
Cloth  binding.  5oc. 

K.;pling  has  been  often  termed  the  international  poet;  and  certainly 
no  living  writer  is  more  deserving  of  hemispheric  fame.  Kipling  does 
not  rhyme  of  loves  and  doves.  His  poetry  is  of  the  strong,  vivid  kind, 
•whether  he  sings  the  song  of  steam  or  weirdly  pipes  the  story  of  a 
hanging  in  camp. 

The  verses  of  "The  Vampire"  were  suggested  by  the  renowned 
painting  by  Philip  Burne-Jones,  first  exhibited  in  London  in  1897.  A 
reproduction  of  this  painting  is  published  in  the  book.  The  volume  is 
handsomely  bound  in  cloth,  and  the  latest  picture  of  Mr.  Kipling  is 
reproduced  on  the  cover,  stamped  in  gold  and  black  by  a  new  process. 

THE  REAL  KRUGER  and  the  Transvaal.    I2mo,  218 
pages.     Cloth  binding.  5oc. 

By  an  Englishman,  a  Boer  and  an  American.  A  most  timely  work, 
gi vi  ng  a  view  of  the  situation  from  all  sides  of  the  case.  No  exhaustive 
essays,  but  just  the  plain  statement  of  facts  that  everybody  wants  to 
know. 

MARGARET  LEE. 

Divorce;  or,  Faithful  and  Unfaithful.  12 mo,  410 
pages.  Cloth  binding.  5oc. 

Mr.  Gladstone  said,  in  his  review  of  this  book  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century:  "It  is  with  great  gallantry  as  well  as  with  great  ability 
that  Margaret  Lee  has  ventured  to  combat,  in  the  ranks  on  what 
must  be  taken  nowadays  as  the  unpopular  side,  and  has  indicated  her 
belief  in  a  certain  old-fashioned  doctrine,  that  the  path  of  suffering 
may  not  be  the  path  of  duty  only,  but  likewise  the  path  of  glory  and 
of  triumph  for  our  race." 

The  Brooklyn  Times,  in  commenting  upon  this  review,  added  :  "  Mr. 
Gladstone  has,  we  think,  done  a  good  service  in  calling  attention  to 
this  story,  which  is  not  only  above  the  average  as  a  work  of  fiction, 
but  enters  with  uncommon  vigor  and  success  into  its  treatment  of  a 
highly  significant  yet  forbidding  theme." 

KATHARINE  S.  MACQUOID. 
Appledore  Farm.     i2mo,  361  pages.     Cloth  binding. 

500. 

Appledore  Farm  is  situated  in  the  south-western  part  of  England. 
Its  owner  squanders  his  substance  on  the  race  track  and  in  speculation 
generally.  His  daughter  finds  her  inheritance  gone,  and  after  making 
the  old  discovery  that  the  gay,  handsome  and  outwardly  devoted 
suitor  is  at  heart  selfish  and  designing,  accepts  a  good  man's  love, 
eases  her  father's  burdens,  and  in  time  becomes  a  satisfied  woman. 

(9) 


A     000129939 


